


Constant as the Moon

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Origins, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-12-08 21:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: After months in the Arena, Shiro finds himself sponsored by Emperor Zarkon’s favorite commander. Little by little, he sinks deeper into the life and culture of a Galra warrior until he proves himself worthy enough to be one. A little over a year after the announcement of the failed Kerberos mission, Shiro is allowed to bring the Holts back home to Earth. With nothing left to keep him there, he intends to see them back safely, check on his best friend and return to Sendak’s ship. Three errant cadets on a rooftop talking about aliens mean that his plans won’t go as…planned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! Our fic for the [Voltron General Bang](http://voltronbang.tumblr.com)! This was a collaboration done with my lovely wife, and our first joint longfic project in this fandom. Our artist is the incredible [Stishovite](http://stishovite-art.tumblr.com), who was a wonderful partner and wonderful support for this project! [Here](http://stishovite-art.tumblr.com/post/163595241120/for-the-story-constant-as-the-moon-my) is the comic done for the story! (art contains spoilers for later chapters*) Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

_ Low-ranking Galra soldiers and guards stepped back to leave a clear path for Commander Sendak and Lieutenant Haxus, a buzz of hushed chatter following in their wake. Even though their appearance down in the pits of the Arena was a surprise, they looked unfazed at all the staring eyes, both Galra and alien. They had every right to be there, and they knew it, wordlessly commanding respect as they made their way to the medic section _

_ Calling it a medic section was something of a joke. The hastily pitched curtains were made of flimsy material that fluttered in the current of the main hub’s ventilation shafts and offered very little privacy. Sendak wondered why they were there at all. The floor was stained in a patchwork of old blood from enough different creatures it was almost artistic, if one didn’t think about the source very much. He stepped over it with no hesitation, very used to blood under his boots. Haxus didn’t hesitate either, and his expression betrayed nothing, but Sendak knew his lieutenant preferred to be on higher ground. From various sections, aliens tried to be heard—guttural words, angry cries, anguished sobbing, moans of the badly wounded or nearly dead. It offended Sendak’s ears, but he wouldn’t turn back until he found what they came here for in the first place.  _

_ “Hold him down,” a Galra medic shouted, the front of his robes spattered red. It was vibrant, fresh. “He needs to be stitched up before he loses too much blood.” _

_ “Sedate him,” yelled another, and a syringe was passed along too many hands to be sanitary until it reached the first medic. Without ceremony or even a warning, he jammed the tip—probably too dull—right into the arm of the earthling fighter. The fighter jerked and let out a roar of pain. He fought the medics holding him down and any restraints that tried to bind him to the work table. He didn’t make it easy for them, even as the sedative started to kick in. Sendak and Haxus paused to watch the entire ordeal from a safe distance, and Haxus’s hand rested against the hilt of the sword on his belt, gaze narrowed and focused. _

_ Finally, he laid still. _

_ The Champion. _

_ Sendak didn’t wait for any acknowledgement or permission from the medic team. He approached the side of the table and looked down, assessing the earthling and his condition. Down in the Arena, the Champion looked so small compared to some of his most recent opponents. Apparently, the draw of the crowd and all the bets exchanging hands was driven by how much of a disadvantage he had when he fought. No wonder he was the talk of the hub. When Sendak watched him fight, he had seen many things he could appreciate: strength and cunning, to be sure, but most notably a very stubborn and unmistakable refusal to die. Sendak respected that, and no matter how many times the Champion survived, there continued to be a ridiculous number of bets against him every time he’d shown up on the roster. No one had claimed him yet. Sendak was about to change that. _

_ Hazy eyes looked up at him from under unruly black hair. Even slipping under the sedative, he was so angry. Sendak knew that if he could have found the strength or gotten his body to move, he would have been up off the table in an instant, ready to fight him. Sendak smirked, pleased to see that fight even now.  _

_ “It’s nice to finally meet you, Champion.” _

_ “Th...the hell...are you…” _

_ “You will know soon enough.” _

/

Shiro listens for the steps of the Garrison guards as he uses Iverson’s computer to check the cadet listings. He’s still smiling from the hugs he’d gotten at the Holt house. He’d promised them he would come by for dinner when he could. He wonders if even Haxus has figured out one of his other reasons for bringing the Holts home besides human compassion. It hadn’t taken Sam long to pick up on the idea. Shiro had given his word to Sendak and Haxus that neither Professor Holt nor Matt would speak of their captivity, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t start initiatives to get Earth ready to defend against the Galra if they ever made it out this far. Sam is a brilliant man and clever to boot: Shiro knows he can trust him to do it. 

Now he has two cadets to track down. He finds the listing for “Gunderson, Pidge” easily, but it takes far longer than it should to track down Keith. When he does, the file is only followed by the unnerving label “Inactive”, and Shiro doesn’t have the time to try to get into that locked file. He’ll just have to look for him the old-fashioned way. 

Uncomfortable memories swamp him as he sneaks down the halls, the human guards not nearly as prevalent as the Galra sentries back on the ship. Pidge’s room is empty and Shiro sighs in frustration, trying to think of where she could be in the middle of the night. He doesn’t know enough about her to really guess, but decides that checking the roof will at least calm him down. He spent many nights staring up at the stars when he was a cadet, and thinking back on that time has him taking deeper breaths already.

He’s not surprised to hear voices when he gets there, even though the roof is supposed to be restricted access after hours. But he is surprised to hear the word “Voltron”. He closes the door behind him quietly, lost under the sounds of an argument, and stands in the shadows next to the access door. 

“Isn’t the roof supposed to be off limits for cadets?” Shiro asks in a pause between arguments. 

The startled screams in triplicate are satisfying.

The largest of the three squabbling students is the first to recover. And also the first to scold his companions. “You see? I told you sneaking out was a bad idea. If I end up with another suspension on my record, I’m going to be very—”

“Quiet, Hunk! I’m sure this can all be explained very easily.” The second student straightens, squaring his shoulders and putting his hands on his hips. “Sir, I apologize for breaking the rules, but you should know I was only trying to look after my teammate. I saw him sneaking out and tried to get him to come back inside before he got caught.”

“How is that looking after your teammate?” the last demands, turning away from a small collection of equipment that looks nothing like standard Garrison tech. Large spectacles catch the light, but it’s plain to see there’s a glare behind them. “You just tattled on me like a grade schooler! And technically you’re dressed for a night out, but I suppose that was just a coincidence, am I right?”

“C’mon, guys, this is  _ seriously _ not helping our case.”

It’s so hard for Shiro to keep a straight face, and it takes him a moment to push the laughter out of his voice. “Technically, none of you cadets should be out after curfew.” He manages to be stern. Barely. 

Shiro studies them, takes in the protective body language despite the arguing. What he can see of the one in front of the equipment reminds him so strongly of Matt that he’s pretty sure that cadet has to be the elusive Pidge. “Gunderson?”

Pidge squares up immediately, mouth puckered into a defiant frown, head high. “Sir.”

Shiro smiles. “You should call home.”

“Wait, what?” Suddenly, her face drains white. “What is it? Is it my mom?” Already, small but furiously quick hands are fumbling in the pocket of her oversized sweatshirt for her phone. 

“You know,” the one called Hunk muses. “You don’t sound like any of the commanding officers in this sector.” He squints at the direction Shiro’s voice is coming from, as if he’ll be able to see through the heavy shadows obscuring him from view. Can’t blame a guy for trying.

“Is this some kind of joke? Did some other cadet sneak up here? It’s okay, buddy, I’m sure we can work out an arrangement where we all just do what we want and no one has to be the wiser. I’m also not above bribes.”

“Lance…” Hunk’s voice is a gentle breath of long-suffering.

Shiro keeps his eyes on Pidge-Katie, waiting for her reaction. But her teammate isn’t going to be ignored and Shiro figures a little bit of ego stroking can’t go amiss. “You’re the pilot, aren’t you?”

At that, Lance seems to forget that they might be on the precipice of a suspension and instead stands straighter, puffing out his chest. “That’s right, I’m the pilot.”

No one bothers to point out that anyone they’re used to dealing with, especially the authority figures, wouldn’t have had to ask. Lance will figure it out eventually.

“Thought so; it’s easy to tell when you know what to look for. With all that tech, Pidge is probably your comm spec and that leaves...Hunk? As engineer, right?” He’s still watching Katie-Pidge’s face, the grip on her phone, and he wishes he could have given her the news without scaring her. Her lips are moving, but her voice is barely a whisper, her hand cupped around her face as if she didn’t want to share any bad news with her team if she didn’t have to.

“Yeah, you’ve got it right!” And then there it is, the light bulb clicking visibly in Lance’s mind and he scratches his head, brow knotted. “Hey, who—”

“D-Dad?” the incredulous squeak comes from Pidge, and there are tears in her eyes. She stares at the phone as if it could be lying, then immediately presses it back to her ear. “Dad! It’s you, I can’t believe it’s you! I-is Matt with you?” A sob follows the confirmation.

Her two teammates both look at her, then immediately back at where Shiro is, defensive and curious at once. 

“Who are you anyway?” Lance finishes, more than ready to jump to Pidge’s defense if the answer isn’t the right one.

He keeps the answer simple: “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Shiro has never liked making people cry, but he knows those tears are happy ones, and he leans back against the door with a smile. It feels like he's done something good, something right: seeing the Holts reunited, watching Katie react to hearing her dad's voice, knowing he and her brother are home and alive. Like it's all been worth it.

 

“Try me. You’re obviously not someone in the Garrison. Well, I mean, you’re  _ in _ the Garrison right now, but you just showed up out of nowhere and now Pidge is crying, so we deserve some answers.”

Pidge hangs up the phone after promising to come home as soon as she could, turning once more with her eyes still wet. “Who are you?”

“Just what we’re trying to sort out, Pidge,” Lance says.

Now they’re all looking his way, even if they can’t see him, expectant.

“And I’m telling you, you really, really wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Shiro’s not even trying to hide his amusement now—there’s no point. Even if the cadets raise a fuss, he’s pretty sure he can get away before any real pursuit can follow him. If it were just Katie-Pidge, he might tell her, but he doesn’t know a thing about the other two. “No one else would believe you either.”

“That’s not really fair,” Hunk pouts. “Buuuuut I guess this means we’re not actually in trouble either, right?”

Shiro laughs; he can’t help it. “No, you’re really not. I’m sure you can get back to your rooms the same way you left them.” He shakes his head, remembering his own not-exactly-sanctioned excursions off-base as a cadet. “But I do have a question for you. Where’s Keith Kogane?”

“Keith?” Hunk echoes, confused as to why a stranger might want to know.

“Who’s Keith?” Pidge asks.

Lance waves a hand. “Oh, that guy? He got booted a few months ago, flunked out officially, but everyone’s pretty sure he lost his temper and was told not to let the door hit him on the way out.”

“He what?” For a moment, Shiro thinks Lance has to be wrong, Keith wouldn’t flunk—Then it hits him. “Let me guess, after the decision on Kerberos?” 

As if Pidge knows where this is going, she stands up and moves so that she’s on Lance’s other side. “The Kerberos mission was publicly announced as pilot error, a crash.”

“Nevermind that it was piloted by the best of the best!” Lance adds.

“Until tonight, just now, when you told me to call home, I thought my father and brother were lost out there. I just couldn’t prove it.” Pidge looks around as if expecting someone to melt out of the walls and catch her at something. Squaring up her shoulders, she continues. “Nothing I could find in the Garrison records indicated that the ship had crashed. There was no sign of their extraction equipment or any debris. I’ve suspected it’s been a cover up for a while now, but I never could quite get my hands on any real evidence. That’s why I’m here. If you were with my family, you probably already know that.”

She ignores the way the other two are staring at her. Lance looks like he’s just had a full revelation, even if he hasn’t put it to words yet.

“Pilot error was really the best way to explain it to the public,” Shiro says gently, touched by Lance’s defense of his piloting, if not a little bitter the Garrison declared him  _ dead _ . “It allowed them to close the case and keep the Garrison program going without a widespread panic. It was a tragedy that way, not a conspiracy and not… Well, that’s above your paygrade, cadets.” Shiro is going to have to find his erstwhile protégé the hard way then. “You really should all get back to your rooms. I don’t think you want Iverson knowing about that equipment, impressive as it is.” He smiles again, making sure Pidge can hear it. “You really are just as good as your brother claims, aren’t you?”

She bounces from foot to foot. “Since he’s been screwing around in space, I just might be better by now,” Pidge says with a wicked grin. 

“You’re probably right.” Shiro turns and reaches for the door handle.

“So you’re still not going to tell us who you are?” Lance asks.

Hunk puts a hand on his arm. “Isn’t it enough that he’s made Pidge happy and isn’t going to tell anyone we snuck out? C’mon, Lance, let’s call this a win-win for everyone and just go back in.” He looks considering. “I promise we can go sneak out for a teambuilding exercise some other time, okay?”

Lance huffs.

Oh, Shiro likes these three. Would that there had been more of these kinds of peers when he’d been in the Garrison. “You need a bit of mystery in life, cadets. Have a good night.” 

He leaves them behind and makes his way down from the roof, keeping alert for the security patrols. He makes one last, justifiably satisfying break-in to the main administrative office , and leans over one of the terminals. It doesn’t take him long to start searching nearby for registries of fast air vehicles, then search the reports of unauthorized ones. It at least gives him an idea of which direction to head, and it’s with a bit of a savage thrill that he makes his way to the garages and hotwires one of the Garrison ATV’s to head out into the desert. 

_ You and your temper, Keith… You and your temper. _

/

“I thought we were going back to our dorms,” Hunk says in a thinly veiled, desperate plea for Lance to come back to his senses without actually having to say it. 

“Doesn’t anyone else want to know who that guy was?” Lance demands, already prying open the access door. He moves quickly; he doesn’t want to completely lose the stranger’s trail, and he won’t let the others slow him down.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Pidge agrees, chasing after him.

Hunk sighs. “Why do I let myself get caught up in these situations?”

Pidge jerks a thumb in Lance’s direction and Hunk nods in resignation.

Still, Hunk is the one that hotwires a Garrison scooter, smaller and faster than the ATV they were just in time to see someone drive off in. The chances are high that it’s their unknown visitor up on the roof, and Lance is determined to confirm his identity. Even if it means they might get caught after all. He hops into the driver’s seat and revs the engine. “Everybody hang on, we’re gonna go solve a mystery!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro heads out to the desert to find Keith, followed by the Garrison Trio. A reunion of many mixed emotions.

_ Shiro hadn’t boarded a ship since he’d been brought to what he’d learned was the hub of the Empire. It was unnerving, stepping into the passageways, knowing that if something catastrophic happened, he had no protection, no space suit or emergency gear over the bodysuit and tunic of an arena slave. Being the Champion couldn’t save him here, and he had no idea why they were moving him to start with. _

_ He glanced around when he could, the metronome precision of the robot sentries’ march keeping him moving at a faster pace than his normal gait. His stomach clenched on nothing, the thin grey mush they called “sustenance” doing little to fill his belly when they kept sending him out to fight. He’d been getting some sort of protein irregularly at best. But it still wasn’t enough.  _

_ This ship was like the one he remembered from his capture: dark halls illuminated by sparse lights. His eyes were adjusted to it now, but it was still strange. It made what happened since his capture feel like some sort of bad dream, one he wished he could wake up from and forget.  _

_ Even if he could, he’d bear the scars for a lifetime. _

_ Shiro was brought to a plain room, mostly devoid of furnishings or tech. He was shoved to his knees once they stopped walking, his grunt muffled by the muzzle they’d forced onto him when he’d resisted. The sentries’ stood on either side of him, the soldier behind him holding his chains, shifting nervously as they awaited what had to be a superior officer. _

_ The Galra that walked in was unlike the others Shiro had seen. Tall like them, but lean and narrow-faced, with cheekbones that could slice an unwary hand. His expression and the way he carried himself was different, less swagger and more outright arrogance. _

_ Sharp eyes looked him over, narrowing at the sight of the muzzle across his face.  _

_ “He bites,” the prison guard behind Shiro offered up unnecessarily. “And if he’s—” _

_ “That will be enough, soldier.” _

_ In any other situation, Shiro would have been amused by the way that cultured voice cut short any explanation, made the guard flinch and clench his fist tighter around the chains. But here and now, it made his blood run cold. There was no mercy in the tone, no sense of concern. He eyed Shiro like he was nothing more than a new possession. From the looks of the armor, he wasn’t even the head officer on this ship either. Shiro became even more concerned about his lack of space gear, but also aware of his position. The Champion, manacled and muzzled like an unruly dog, dressed in the clothes of a slave, dirty, starving and kneeling on the ground. It was not a flattering presentation at all, and it was probably intentional. _

_ Unlike most of the other soldiers Shiro encountered, this Galra dared to get right up into his personal space. He reached out and took hold of Shiro’s chin roughly in long, clawed fingers. He forced Shiro’s head up so he could get a good look at his face, raising a brow at the bluntness of his teeth behind the muzzle.  _

_ “Champion,” he said, as if trying the name out on his tongue. It was as if he’d never addressed the Champion, any Champion, one-on-one like this. It was a novelty. “You’ll need to be cleaned up before you are presented to the commander.” He reached around to unfasten the muzzle and pull it free. “On your feet.” _

_ Shiro bared his teeth just to make sure those fingers got no closer to his mouth than they already had. He wasn’t going to chance having the muzzle put back on just yet, but if he was given a reason to bite, he would. He struggled to his feet, hating the fact that he was following this Galra’s orders. He also hated the idea that he needed to be “presentable” for anyone, much less a commander. There was no good way this could end, he was certain. _

_ The officer reached out a hand, and the soldier surrendered Shiro’s chains to him. The Galra looked down at them, followed the trail of them to the primitive manacles around Shiro’s bruised wrists. He sighed, his expression one of obvious disappointment. “You are dismissed,” he told the solder.  _

_ “Sir, maybe you should—” _

_ “Perhaps you should follow orders.” _

_ “V-vrepit sa, sir.”  _

_ Shiro’s new handler didn’t even grace the soldier with a response before wrapping the chains around his hand once. “Come with me.” He made sure to fall into step alongside Shiro, never once giving the Champion a shot at his back or leaving himself vulnerable. He had to have seen what Shiro was capable of, and took the appropriate precautions. The sentries that had accompanied Shiro down now followed the newcomer. _

_ “You have been spoken for and your sponsorship has come from Commander Sendak. I am his First Lieutenant, Haxus. From now on, you will reside on our ship and only return to the hub when your presence is requested for a match. Your care and handling is now at the discretion of the commander, so if I were you, I would become aware of what behaviors will benefit you most and act accordingly.” _

_ That was probably the most words at one time any of his captors had graced him with so far. Shiro didn’t quite know what to do with that information either. On the one hand, he could fight and struggle; on the other, the lieutenant had a point. It might be worth holding back a little until he had a better feel for the commander. It was more advantageous this way. _

_ He couldn’t help Sam and Matt if he was dead. _

_ Haxus watched his face, waiting for any protest, then nodded when Shiro didn’t give any. “Perhaps in your time with us, we will learn just what a Champion is truly capable of.” _

/

Shiro knows he’s being followed as soon as he’s far enough from the Garrison that there shouldn’t be anyone else on the road. He assumes it’s the cadets, but there’s really not much he can do about it. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, so there isn’t any point in trying to lead them away. Besides, if they’re going to show the balls to chase after him for answers, who is he squash their initiative?

The cadets become an afterthought, his attention focused on signs of any other vehicle: something moving fast, because that’s where he’ll find Keith. Once he gets to the sandstone pillars, he spots a flash of light moving quickly among them. It takes even less time for him to be certain it’s Keith flying that thing—the speed, the way he takes the corners, the seemingly reckless grace of it all is very familiar.

Every cadet at the Garrison learns basic Morse code and Shiro uses the headlights on the ATV to get Keith’s attention. 

For a few moments (the time it takes for a certain trio to stash their vehicle and duck behind something to watch) it seems as if Shiro’s signal will go unanswered. The craft continues to dart over and between outcroppings with abandon, the glow of its boosters streaking the night sky and the looming rocks. But at last, it shifts course and veers toward Shiro. It’s a sign of caution that it lands with plenty of space between them, and a figure slips off the back of it, slender and wiry, sporting a red jacket and messy dark hair. He approaches with wary steps.

“That was some impressive flying.” The compliment is honest. Shiro has always enjoyed watching Keith fly. He operates on instinct, judging to a hair what his craft can and cannot do. As a pilot, it is a sheer adrenaline rush seeing how Keith flies a course in the simulator and something he always appreciated when he was bribing him with extra sim time back at the Garrison. Before Kerberos. 

“Thanks?” comes the careful reply. Keith’s head tilts, clearly focusing on the ATV for a moment, before turning back to Shiro. “Though why anyone from the Garrison would come all the way out here to tell me that is beyond me.” There’s a bitterness in his tone he can’t seem to help.

“You and your temper, Keith…” It’s fond, Shiro can’t hide it. Looking at Keith’s face, his tone, it’s like their first meeting all over again. It makes him feel like he’s trying to feed a stray.

Keith’s gaze suddenly sharpens, scrutinizing Shiro’s figure, lit only by the ATV headlights/the moonlight. 

“Sh-Shiro?” tumbles out of Keith’s mouth, incredulous and broken. He reaches up to rub his eyes and then clenches his fists at his sides. He stalks forward until he’s inches from Shiro, glowering up to make eye contact. He looks ready to fight the very idea that Shiro is there with him now. It’s heartbreaking.

Shiro would do almost anything to wipe the betrayal from Keith’s face and he stops playing around. “Hey.” It might backfire badly, but he has to try. He places a hand on Keith’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Then he freezes, distracted by the realization of what he’s just done. He’d let muscle memory take over and that’s his  _ right  _ hand on Keith’s shoulder, his right  _ Galra  _ hand on Keith’s shoulder.

At first, Keith doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy pushing up onto his tiptoes to peer into Shiro’s face, and he reaches up to cradle it in gloved hands. “What are you  _ doing _ here? How did you— they said you—” The questions pour out of him like a cup overflowing. It’s as if Keith’s mind can’t settle on an emotion—relief, excitement, fear. It’s then that all the little things Shiro is conscious of come into focus, little things that are very big things. The scar across nose, the shock of white hair, how heavy the hand on Keith’s shoulder is and how it glints like metal in the moonlight. “What happened to you?” he whispers.

Shiro swallows. “I...it’s a long story.” He inhales slowly, trying to get his heart to stop racing, pushing the rush of adrenaline back. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, first.” It should lead into what he needs to tell him. And perhaps by the time they get to that point, Shiro will have figured out how.

Shame washes over every part of Keith’s being, and his hands slide away as if he doesn’t have the right to be so familiar anymore. He can’t quite look Shiro in the face. “I...they said it was your fault. They blamed you, and I knew better. I wanted them to listen, to look for you, do  _ something _ instead of taking the easy way out. I took a swing at Iverson. Someone caught me first, I-I don’t even remember who it was. But it was...it was already over.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. It rattles in his lungs and exhales with a tremble. “I’m sorry, Shiro.”

Shiro wishes Keith hadn’t let go so he could lean into his touch because seeing Keith looking down, away from him—that hurts. “You and your temper,” he repeats, just as fondly as before. He’s back to muscle memory again, the need to comfort Keith, and he reaches for the back of Keith’s head before he can stop himself. He follows through with pulling him into a hug. He rests his cheek against Keith’s hair, and it’s as soft as he remembers. 

“You weren’t wrong.” It’s important to tell Keith that. Vitally so. “It wasn’t pilot error, but you know why they had to say that, right? If it were mechanical, they’d be hounded and an investigation would have to be made. Hard to do with no evidence. If it were simply a mysterious disappearance, the whole program could be shut down under mass hysteria or lack of funding or broken by repeated accusations of conspiracy. But pilot error? That’s the fault of one man, one man who’s gone, who has to be dead.” Keith flinches, hands going to grip his waist. Shiro continues.”That’s a tragedy, and the air and space programs have more than their fair share of them. It’s sad, but it’s acceptable. All the Garrison has to do is push the remaining cadets and pilots harder to try and make up for whatever failed in that pilot’s training. It’s an internal problem and relatively easily addressed.”

“It's bullshit,” Keith grumbles, doing nothing to remove himself from Shiro's embrace. It's different now, the way they slot up against one another. There's more to Shiro—more mass, more experience, more… “Nobody believed in what the Galaxy Garrison was trying to accomplish more than you did. Maybe Commander Holt, but that's about it.” Keith's voice softens, nearly too quiet to be heard. “I don't know if I could have flown for anyone who threw you away so easily.”

Shiro is honestly touched and for one crazy moment, he wonders how Sendak would react to him bringing Keith with him. But that just returns him to the dilemma of explaining what  _ did _ happen instead. He doesn’t even notice the way his hand is moving through Keith’s hair, automatically petting in calming strokes—a habit he’s picked up from Haxus. “You never have been good at playing the good little soldier, have you?”

“You know better,” Keith replies against Shiro's chest. “It's not like I—”

“Okay, hold on a second! Am I really hearing this right?” Lance bursts out from where he's been hiding with the others, hands on his hips. “You're really saying that you're Shiro,  _ the _ Shiro, the pilot of the Kerberos Mission?”

Shiro really isn’t surprised to see Lance here, like he’d suspected. He just wonders how they’d managed to stay quiet that long. As the other two emerge, Hunk looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. 

Keith immediately bristles, pulling back from Shiro and putting himself between him and the cadets. “He's not just  _ saying _ that, he  _ is  _ Shiro.”

Pidge looks from Keith up to Shiro. “You're the pilot. And you brought my family back home.”

“Who are all you guys? And what are you doing here?” Keith demands

Lance gets right to the point. “The name’s Lance. And I’m your number one rival.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Shiro needs to find Keith, he knows exactly what to look for. Unfortunately, a certain Garrison trio isn't about to let him get away from them so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos you've been leaving so far! We are super excited and happy that you're enjoying it!

_ There were very few people in his life that Shiro had to look up at. Commander Sendak was by far one of the largest aliens he’d encountered outside of the ring. Many of the guards and medics were taller than he was, but not like this. Sendak was massive, his shoulders almost twice the size of Shiro’s, and he towered nearly two feet above him, making Shiro crane his neck up to make eye contact. If Shiro hadn’t faced literal monsters in the Arena, he might have been more intimidated, but being this up close and personal with Sendak didn’t really make him feel comfortable, either. His gaze drifted over to a terrifying prosthetic representing nearly the entirety of Sendak’s left arm. Shiro’s mouth went dry as he gauged the handspan alone and realized the commander could crush his head in a heartbeat and not even feel any exertion. Between the shoulder joint and mid tricep, there appeared to be nothing connecting it other than a glowing energy in vivid purple. He turned his eyes back upward. _

_ “As requested, sir,” Haxus announced, standing next to Shiro, chains in one hand while he saluted with the other. “I have brought you the Champion.” _

_ “He is small.”  _

_ Shiro bit his tongue. _

_ “Small and already near fifty consecutive wins in the ring,” Haxus reminded him, though Shiro was certain Sendak really didn’t need to be reminded. He didn’t seem like the type to forget anyone or anything that could pose a threat. And while Shiro might not survive against someone who had risen to the rank of commander, he could certainly be a threat. _

_ Sendak appraised him with a single up and down sweep, and that was when Shiro noticed the mechanics of his right eye, installed right over a nasty looking scar. This was no one he wanted to challenge anytime soon. It piqued his curiosity even further, enough that he mustered up his courage to ask. “Is that why I’m here? The lieutenant said I was spoken for; something about sponsorship. What does that mean?” _

_ In truth, Shiro’s mind had tried to fill with all sorts of really very terrible things that could mean, all of which he was trying not to think about as he once more took in Sendak’s size and obvious experience. _

_ Both Galra looked at him, and while they didn’t let much surprise show on their faces, the shared quirk of their brows and a forward flick of their ears indicated it just as well. _

_ “It means that as long as I continue to represent you, all of your care—including meals, clothing and any sort of training—is at my discretion. You interest me, Champion. It has been a good long time since someone of your reputation has been seen in the hub. Somehow, no one else has stepped up to claim you, so I took the opportunity.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ “You have not earned the right to ask so many questions. Consider yourself fortunate to have a sponsor at all. Actually, from what I’ve heard, you should consider yourself lucky to be alive. And not because of your performance in the Arena. If the creatures you fight couldn’t kill you, the medics certainly seemed to have tried to finish the job.” _

_ Shiro shuddered. He had too many broken and painful memories of fever fits, his skin feeling like it was burning off in places, sedatives that threw him into nightmarish black-outs and ugly marks on him that would now never go away. He didn’t really believe that his treatment on this ship was going to be much better. All the Galra he’d encountered, including the one that seemed to be in power over them all, had seemed alike to him—cruel, heartless and sadistic. Why else would there even be an Arena full of captive aliens in the first place? His eyes burned as he lowered them so that Sendak couldn’t read the contempt he had in them. “Eye-level” was the breastplate of Sendak’s impressively large armor, and that was good enough for him now.  _

_ “Haxus, show him to his quarters and make sure he is fed. After that, I want him decontaminated so that he doesn’t risk carrying anything vile onto this ship. I leave him to your capable hands.” _

_ “Yes, sir.” _

_ Shiro pressed his lips together against the words that wanted to spill out. He was certain the vile thing on this ship wasn’t him at all. _

/

“What do you mean, rival?” Keith sputters at Lance. “I don’t even know you!”

Shiro rubs the bridge of his nose. The bad news is that he had been right about the trio of cadets following him all the way out here. The good news is that it wasn’t a Garrison officer. With any luck, he’ll be able to get this settled, get everyone back where they’re supposed to be and get back to his ship. He’s not sure he believes in his own luck, especially right this minute.

“I’m a pilot! You’re a pilot—well,  _ were _ , and—”

“Lance, that’s enough.” Shiro cuts him off before Keith can do something with his clenched up hands.

“C’mon, Shiro, It’s not like we could have just gone back to bed after that,” Pidge says, rolling her shoulders like she’s ready to fight anyone who tells her otherwise. “My dad and brother have been missing for over a year. You showing up and telling me to call home on the same night they just happen to be there? It’s not a coincidence.”

“Not to mention the fact that you’re a hero!” Lance adds animatedly, spreading his hands wide. “Some of us don’t care what all the news reports say! You were the best pilot in the Garrison, and we really looked up to you! Hearing Iverson talk about how badly the mission failed just made us want to be better pilots, to live up to your name. Maybe kinda redeem it somehow.”

Shiro sighs, looking among them. It really would be easier if it were just Keith and Katie-Pidge. He knows Keith, and from all that Matt and Sam had told him about Katie, he almost feels like he knows her as well. But the other two aren’t going to leave—at least Lance isn’t. And Hunk doesn’t seem like the type to go without him, so… “All right.” He rubs his face, putting his thoughts in order. 

“You know what Pidge was saying up on the roof? About picking up alien signals and how things were going to change? It’s not wrong. The mission didn’t exactly fail. We landed on Kerberos and were extracting ice samples when we were taken by an alien vessel. We were separated and I...ended up on another ship.” Careful now, he needs to be so careful. No reason to worry them too much or scare them. “I ended up gaining the respect of a commander and was eventually allowed to return the Holts home.” 

“So there really  _ are _ aliens?” Lance shoots Pidge an incredulous look.

“I  _ told _ you,” she mutters.

“But Pidge also said they’re looking for some kind of thing called Voltron,” Lance points out. “And they’re crazier than ever!” He wiggles his fingers for emphasis. “Are  _ your _ aliens the ones that are looking for it or some other aliens?”

“Is nobody even worried that there are any aliens at all?” Hunk asks. “You know, who like to go around capturing people on exploration missions and look for things called Voltron?”

“Hunk, we don’t even know what Voltron is.”

Shiro winces. He’s heard the word, has watched the twitch of Sendak’s ears whenever it had come up with one of the other commanders, and has even asked Haxus about it. “Some don’t actually believe in it. From what I can tell, it’s like a story, a fairy tale, that’s been around a long time. I don’t know what exactly it is, other than some kind of magical super weapon. But they are looking for it.”  _ Here goes nothing. _ “They’re also conquering the known universe. And that known universe is far, far bigger than Earth thinks it is. Earth and its solar system are basically the backwater boonies not worth going after—yet. It was sheer bad luck there was a ship anywhere in the area of Kerberos in the first place. They were just passing through and couldn’t chance being spotted before they were ready to start in this sector.” 

The three of them stare at him, slack-jawed. Pidge moves her mouth, but nothing comes out; Hunk looks like he wants to find the nearest bed and crawl under it. Lance rubs his chin, his lower lip stuck out, trying to decide just how much of this he believes. 

Keith’s voice is quiet behind him. “What if...what if Voltron...is here?”

“What?” Shiro turns sharply to face Keith. “What do you mean by that?” 

“There’s something you should see.” He turns without further explanation, sitting astride his cruiser and glancing over his shoulder. “Besides, you don’t want to be here when the Garrison tracks down that ATV you just stole, right? Your new friends can come, too, I guess.”

Shiro glances back at the cadets and shrugs. “You’ve got a point.” He’s not even remotely guilty about leaving the ATV behind. It’s not the first time someone’s done that and they’re probably used to it. It’s not even the first time the culprit has been Shiro, either; he has some fond memories of sneaking out and into town for the evening. So he’s grinning as he slings a leg over Keith’s cruiser and slots himself right behind him. “Besides, I want to know how this thing handles.” 

“Like a dream,” Keith hums, turning the key in the ignition and smirking as it roars to life. “Now or never, guys.”

Lance, Hunk and Pidge look at each other. Hunk opens his mouth, but Lance is already strutting towards the cruiser in defiance. Boldly, he mounts the machine behind Shiro. It tips a little, and Lance slides the short distance it takes to bump up against his broad back,arms sliding around Shiro’s waist. Next is Hunk, who grabs onto Lance immediately. Pidge is the last, tucking up against Hunk’s back and hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his pants.

“Little more weight than she’s used to,” Keith murmurs where only Shiro can hear him. “I think we’re both up to the challenge.” He twists the handle bar and the thrusters come to life, revving loud and glowing bright. They lift from the ground, and he bends his body over the console. It’s looks so natural; he’s right at home. “Here we go.”

Shiro rests his chin on Keith’s shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist for stability. The rumble of the engine is loud, but the way it flies takes his breath away. It’s been so long since he’s flown in atmosphere, felt the wind in his hair like this, and he laughs. “She’s a beauty, Keith. You still fly as well as ever.” He squeezes his waist for emphasis, grinning and heart pounding as Keith takes another turn.

“Just because I got kicked out doesn’t mean I still didn’t want to make you proud.”

Shiro’s heart clenches and he presses his mouth right up against Keith’s ear so he doesn’t have to shout, so these words are Keith’s and Keith’s alone. “I will always be proud of you.”

Keith responds by letting the sharp turns and dips through the rocks say all that he needs to about what flying for Shiro means to him. Something tickles the edge of Shiro’s awareness, the further they move away from the stolen vehicles, but he can’t quite place it. The feeling is lost under the thrill of the ride, which ends too quickly. Shiro doesn’t want to stop, but the cruiser finally rests and purrs into silence next to a shack literally sitting in the middle of nowhere. 

It small enough to fall under the radar, to be mistaken for nothing, but Keith relaxes when they land by the shack and Shiro knows that right now, this place is important to him. If his friend were any less self-sufficient and a not a loner by nature, Shiro would feel sorry for him. But this? A place in the middle of nowhere and a vehicle to fly are enough. 

“I’m glad you’ve made a place for yourself.” Shiro squeezes his arms around Keith’s waist again. “I am proud of you.” It’s so important to make sure Keith knows it in his bones, deep enough not to doubt. Shiro doesn’t know if he’ll get back out this way any time soon, but he’s still considering the crazy idea of bringing Keith back to the ship with him. Because while Keith might not need more than this, Shiro knows he’s still Keith’s only friend.

“Oh man,” Hunk groans, sliding off after Pidge hops down.

“Hunk, you barf on me, and I’ll kill you,” Lance grumbles.

“Here’s the funny thing, Lance, I think I’m actually okay.”

Lance’s expression sours. “Oh sure, we fly in the simulator and you puke in the engine box. This guy flies like a lunatic, and you’re just fine.” He pushes himself away and hops down, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I am  _ not _ a lunatic,” Keith snaps back.

“Knock it off, cadets.” It’s automatic, even after the year or so Shiro’s been gone, to slip into that Garrison mentality. He’s the superior officer here and he will keep order among them. “Besides, open air flying and being closed in a cockpit, simulator or not, are two very different experiences. Also, to be fair, the simulator doesn’t handle like an actual ship. It’s to get you used to the processes, but it’s slower: the controls don’t respond as well, and the mechanics of it are clunkier. By the time you get into a real ship, you’ve got the responses drilled into your muscle memory and it’s easier to bring you up to speed with how it actually handles.” He trails off, realizing he’s slipped into lecturer mode and offers Keith an apologetic look. Keith’s heard it all before, but from the look on Lance’s face, this is the first time the differences have been pointed out to him.

“Iverson treats the simulator like it’s even better than a ship,” Hunk says matter-of-factly. “Until we’re actually allowed to be in a real ship, it’s all we’ve got.”

“Yeah, and no matter how hard Hunk tries, they won’t let him engineer from the ground,” Pidge teases.

“If you’re done with the lesson, Shiro,” Keith breaks in, “come on inside.” He climbs the steps to what serves as the front porch and tugs a worn set of keys from his jacket pocket. He unlocks the door, swinging it open wide to let them inside. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith takes the crew home, and they find out just what he's been doing out there in the desert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support! <3 We will try to post on a more regular schedule going forward.

Keith obviously hasn’t been expecting company; books and papers are scattered across a slab of stone on cinder blocks, his only table in that main room. There’s a set of equipment in the corner, a mismatched construct similar to Pidge’s equipment on the Garrison roof, if nowhere near as technologically sleek and compact. 

A mug with a distinct coffee ring and an empty plate are quickly whisked away to the hallway beyond and left on a counter barely the size of a cutting board. Keith dusts his hands off and waits while the others settle in, staring at the most noticeable thing in the room, a huge corkboard covered in drawings and graphs, a map of the rocky expanse beyond his home. 

Shiro battles his temper back while they file inside, casting his eyes aimlessly around the room. He can’t help but be angry at Iverson for not only kicking Keith out, but also so clearly screwing up the rest of these cadets. He’d always been tough on pilots, but now it seems like that has bled over into all of the cadets as a whole and Shiro is just—

The cork board catches his attention and derails his train of thought, enough to keep him from more than a cursory glance around. He steps closer, notes the carvings and Keith’s notes. This is what Keith has been focusing on since he left the Garrison and it’s very clear that it’s almost an obsession at this point. “What have you been working on?” 

“I wasn’t sure at first…” Keith takes a deep breath, making sure to focus mainly on Shiro or the board as he talks, walking them through the last several months. He navigates his story like he would guide the cruiser, telling them all about the caves, the carvings, and the powerful energy calling to a place deep down in his bones. Keith’s fingertips skim over the maps, lines drawn and pictures carefully tacked up for him to look at over and over again, the touch fond, like an old friend.  

Shiro listens to Keith’s story, reading further than the words he speaks. He knows Keith, knows those first few months had to have been rough; and perhaps later, when they’re alone, he’ll get more out of him about that time. Perhaps he’ll tell him about the Arena, about the first time he was brought up to Sendak’s rooms, certain that this was the end, or that he was just some strange exotic pet to be coveted. But the other cadets are here and he doesn’t know them, Keith doesn’t know them, and neither man can trust them with those things, those pieces of pain.

“I’d like to see those carvings,” Shiro says thoughtfully. “There might be something about them I can read. It can’t hurt to look.”

Keith nods. “I’ll take you.” He turns, and it’s as if he finally remembers the others in the room. His lips press tighter together, unsure of whether to extend the invitation to them. They may have already intruded too much in this reunion, and all this work he’s done.

“We’re going, too,” Lance announces, earning him a surprised look from his teammates. 

Keith’s eyes narrow. “Why am I not surprised?”

“We should go together.” Pidge seems to be trying just as hard as Shiro to keep the peace, even if it’s only to spare herself the sound of Lance’s bickering. “If it’s really a weapon, if there is really something that could come after it, we should know about it.”

“What? So you can go back to the Garrison and tell them?” The edge of Keith’s temper is in his voice; Shiro picks up on it immediately.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder before he even thinks about moving, the gentle squeeze a reminder to stay calm and be patient. “They’re not going to tell the Garrison anything, Keith.” Shiro frames the statement like an order to the other cadets and he glances over to make sure they understand that. “No one is telling the the Garrison a thing about this entire little side trip they’ve taken. As far as the Garrison is concerned, these cadets took a trip into town. That’s all.”

Even though Keith is the only one who has ever heard the commanding tone from Shiro himself, it’s just as powerful as if he were actually their CO. They shift on their feet, as if it’s taking everything in their power not to stand up straighter and salute.

Lance’s “Yeah” almost sounds like a “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” 

Keith steals a glance out the little window beyond his sofa, frowning. “I hate to suggest we share close quarters any longer than we have to, but we should probably go in the morning. The caverns where I found the markings get really dark and—”

“Are you  _ scared _ , Keith?”

The weight of Shiro’s hand on his shoulder is the only thing that keeps him from spouting off right back like a child. Lance seems to bring out the literal worst in him, and he’s only known him for less than an hour. 

“Do you really want to go further into nowhere in the dead of night to go poking around a bunch of caves that could have an alien weapon in it? What if we wake something up? What if there are aliens already down there looking for it?”

Hunk whimpers, holding tightly to Pidge’s arm.

Lance sighs, pretending it’s all for Hunk that he turns his nose up and waves his hand dismissively. “Whatever. We can go in the morning. I call dibs on the couch.”

Shiro snorts softly, giving Keith’s shoulder another squeeze. “Don’t forget, Lance. This is Keith’s place. We’re all his guests right now, so behave yourselves.” 

Keith reluctantly pulls away and heads for the hallway. “It’s fine. I’ll go get some blankets.” 

/

_ Haxus was there to fetch the Champion almost immediately after the match ended with him once more victorious. The roar of the crowd still thundered above them, chants demanding that there be another match. But Shiro would not be returning to the ring that night. Nor would Haxus allow any of the arena medics to lay a hand on him with their filthy tools and filthier practices. He stood back long enough to watch how viciously the Champion fought against the guards trying to cuff him and weigh him down with chains before finally stepping forward. Haxus had not survived this long without some semblance of caution.  _

_ Shiro glared up at him from his forced position, teeth bared behind the muzzle they continued to (smartly) put on him every time. He couldn’t really blame the guards for their precautions since he’d break free, if he could, and do as much damage as possible. Haxus’s presence didn’t change that one bit. What it did change was what happened after this. Instead of dirty instruments, rushed stitches, and hastily staunched bleeding, Haxus took his time cleaning each wound and treating it properly. As much as he hated to admit it, there was a strange sense of honor when it came to Haxus and Commander Sendak. Something that seemed at odds with everything else Shiro had experienced at the hand of the Galra Empire so far. It was intriguing, but troubling.  _

_ It started with a small chamber, where Shiro remained in cuffs, but the muzzle and chains were removed. This chamber had very little to it other than its four walls and a limited space to move about in. Haxus provided a wash bowl and some cloths, then left Shiro to his own devices for getting himself clean. Shiro was able to wash away the sweat and gore of the battle, making the wounds he’d sustained more accessible and easier to treat. He wasn’t allowed to linger, moved then to Sendak’s proper quarters, where Haxus could affix his cuffs to something that kept him from getting far and bring a med kit to treat  him. The process was often done quietly, clinical and thorough. Haxus spared him no extra comforts, but nothing he did meant to exacerbate the pain or torment Shiro. It had been happening ever since Commander Sendak first made his sponsorship clear. Shiro hadn’t been touched by any of the arena medics, and that was definitely proving to be better for him. _

_ It meant his wounds healed, not festered, which led to far fewer scars. Shiro appreciated actually getting clean but he was almost positive that was as much for the lieutenant as for him, given the apparent Galra sense of smell. Shiro was used to the cuffs by now and Haxus never jerked him around by them or even did anything more than make certain he wasn’t about to attack. Shiro could still have done some damage, but when it was only him and Haxus, cost-benefit analysis made it...unwise.  _

_ Shiro really didn’t want to go back to the cells. _

_ Though there was always bound to be some thread of tension, all things considered, Haxus hardly ever made it worse by forcing small talk. He did tend to offer suggestions about his line of defense or his stance after having watched him fight, but very rarely did it ever sound as if Haxus was mocking him. He advised Shiro as if he were speaking from one warrior to another, a peculiar behavior that made itself more prominent not only in interactions with Haxus, but Sendak as well. It was distinctly opposed with nearly every other experience with a Galra Shiro had ever had. _

_ There was something finicky about Haxus, something that reminded Shiro of a few of his teachers. Which might be a strange thing to think about a member of a brutal warrior-class interstellar empire-building race of giant fuzzy purple cat-like aliens, but the thought lingered. Still, the advice wasn’t...bad. Sometimes Shiro even used it in his next battle. Sometimes he didn’t.  _

_ “Why are you doing this?” The question surprised Shiro almost as much as it broke Haxus’s concentration. As far as Shiro was concerned, his mouth had forgotten it was supposed to check in with his brain before engaging. _

_ Haxus’s hands stilled, and there was a long, thoughtful pause before he replied with, “They will get infected otherwise.” It didn’t help that the tone with which he said it was exactly like the teachers Shiro was reminded of, especially when the student asked a question that could have easily been answered with the application of common sense. _

_ Shiro felt his eyebrow twitch. Patience yields focus. “Why do you care if it does or not?” _

_ “If your wounds become infected, it will impact your ability to maintain your strength. You will either die in a holding cell or fall in battle, neither of which can be particularly appealing to you.” _

_ “I get why it’s important to me, but what does it matter to you?” Shiro spoke slowly, meeting Haxus’s eyes steadily, trying to make his point as clear as possible. His mouth may have started this conversation without orders, but his brain wanted to see where it led. He wanted some answers.  _

_ “I am protecting the Commander’s investment in his Champion. Not only is it a matter of pride, but now his name and reputation are attached to your success. The more you are victorious over your opponents, the better it is for both you and him. There is much to be gained by ensuring your continued survival.” _

_ An investment. Right. Of course. Still property. Shiro didn’t know why he was even slightly surprised and there was no reason for the sink of disappointment. There was plenty of reason for the way the anger boiled up, made him grit his teeth against the first words he wanted to say, made him clench his fists until he felt his nails dig into his palms. It was a stupid thing, but right now, even the fact that he wasn’t allowed to keep them trimmed the way he always had, because of course he couldn’t be trusted with a damn weapon outside the arena, infuriated him. Shiro was only aware of the growl low in his throat when he saw Haxus’s ears flatten out in response. _

_ He wasn’t taken to task for the reaction; Haxus only quirked a brow in curiosity and continued cleaning one of Shiro’s wounds. “Commander Sendak’s sponsorship allows you to continue living, and yet you behave as if this is some kind of detriment. Do you not like wounds treated properly? Better meals than the protein slop you have to fight for down in the hold?” _

_ Shiro knew better than to flinch away from the treatment, that only got him a reproachful look from Haxus and a much tighter grip on whichever part of his body needed to be held still. “Of course I prefer it. That’s the damn point isn’t it?” Patience. “But that doesn’t mean I like being treated like something he thinks he owns!”  _

_ “That ownership protects you, Champion.” Haxus bandaged the wound and leaned back to inspect his work. “Besides, I think your stubbornness pleases him.” _

_ “Great,” Shiro’s voice was flat, the words coming from a clenched jaw. “Just what I always wanted. Pleasing my lord and master Commander Fuzz-ass is my life’s goal.” _

_ Haxus’s nose wrinkled, and he folded his hands in his lap, leaving Shiro chained as he was for the moment. “I’m afraid my translator had a bit of difficulty with your words, but I will take it from your tone you did not like my answer. Perhaps this one will serve you better. A creature with your outright refusal to fall in battle has not been seen for a very long time. The last reigning Champion was Myzaks, and his victories so frequent, most of the spectators had come to expect nothing from anyone he faced.” _

_ Shiro narrowed his eyes. “So why didn’t the Commander sponsor him before I ever came along?” _

_ “Because there are some qualities that an abundance of brute strength cannot compensate for. Myzaks was a fighter, indeed, but he was no warrior.” _

_ Sometimes, Haxus made Shiro want to scream in frustration. “I am NOT a warrior.” Shiro didn’t even like considering himself a fighter. Above and beyond everything, he was a pilot. All he ever wanted was the stars and the military training was simply a means to an end and nothing more than another requirement to get there. The fact that he happened to be good at it was secondary. _

_ That seemed to genuinely confuse Haxus. “Are you not? What you are and what you intended to be are two very different things.” _

_ Yep. He definitely wanted to scream. Snarling worked well. “I’m not. I never intended to be. I’m not going to be. But I will do what I have to to survive and that’s it.” _

_ “I wasn’t aware those things were mutually exclusive.” _

_ Shiro made a strangled noise because lunging at Haxus wasn’t an option no matter how much more attractive it got by the second. _

_ As if he were completely immune to Shiro’s spiking temper, Haxus packed up the med kit and got to his feet. “I will bring your meal, Champion. Do wait here.” As if he had a choice in that either. _

_ Sometimes, Shiro almost missed the cells. He contented himself with the thought that someday, somehow, he was going to wipe that smug, condescending look off Haxus’s face. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey is made to the caves, and a beautiful discovery in blue awaits them there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you've had to wait so long for updates! The work is still being edited/beta'd, but I wanted to kick off the new year right! We're going to try and get this going on a regular posting schedule again!

Keith takes them out on the cruiser again, saving them a good portion of the hike from his home to the caves. They could have walked, but it would have meant spending more time around the other three than he prefers. Though they did stay relatively well behaved while he rummaged around for granola bars and the last of his fresh fruit. His generosity was mostly born of an unwillingness to hear any of them complain about being hungry or tired before they get to the caves. There is only so close he’ll approach with the cruiser, landing them before the main outcropping of boulders he’s come to associate with the lion markings. He’s already eager to see them, to run his hands over them. It rubs against his senses, not unpleasantly, but somewhat contrary, like sitting in cool water, thinking he can hear it babbling like a brook if he listens hard enough. 

No one really protests when they start walking, other than Lance’s comment that this whole foray into the unknown is weird. It is weird, but Keith respects it. If they want to see it so badly, they’ll have to respect it too. He keeps a few paces ahead of them, trusting they’ll either keep up or turn back, he doesn’t care which at this point. Keith falls into stride with Shiro, reminded of catching up to him in the halls, eagerly following him to the simulator. 

He tries not to make it obvious that he’s been sneaking glances at the strange clothing Shiro is wearing. In the darkness last night, he hadn’t really picked up too many significant details, but in the daylight? It’s very clearly a uniform, the likes of which he’s never seen before, reinforced in some places by light armor. He can tell it’s a uniform more by the way Shiro wears it than anything else; it looks nothing like anything he’s seen at the Garrison. There’s a marking on the front of it and he’s not sure if it’s decoration or if the way the red is streaked on the breastplate means anything significant. Keith instead focuses on the other thing he’s noticed—Shiro’s right arm is a prosthetic. Strange and weighted, warm when it had been on his shoulder, around him on the cruiser. Now that there’s sunlight to see it properly, he looks over the details, the uniform sleeve and bracers covering most of what he’d felt, but Shiro’s fingers gleam like steel, his knuckles black. He doesn’t know if he should pretend it’s nothing or— He can’t really do that, and he knows it.

“Shiro,” he murmurs, “can you tell me about this?” His fingertips brush against Shiro’s forearm, and he wonders if Shiro can feel it.

Shiro looks down, follows the path of Keith’s fingers on his arm. His fingers clench involuntarily, and Keith doesn’t like the streak of pain across Shiro’s face or the way his breath catches. He licks his lips. “It allows me to interact with the technology I’m around out there.” In the silence that follows, sweat gleams on Shiro’s brow and he’s exerting effort to breathe normally. “It was...somewhat necessary.”

Keith narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t push for the details. Just watching Shiro struggle to give him this much makes him regret asking in the first place. “Necessary, huh?” There’s so much he wants to ask, to catch up on. He shakes his head. “So what’s gonna happen after this? I mean, I don’t know if you could go back to the Garrison, but if your crew turns up alive, maybe that leaves it wide open for you to pick up where you left off. I’d love to see Iverson’s face.” Keith tries not to think about the fact that there’s no lucky way back in for him. If Shiro goes back, Keith will still be out in the desert with the cruiser as his only ship.

“I’m not going back to the Garrison, Keith.” Shiro runs his hand through his hair, still calming himself down. “I promised I’d go back out there. Part of the deal also includes the Holts not talking about their captivity. Or me talking about what went on out there. I gave my word. As far as Earth and the Garrison is concerned, I’m just a dead man. Professor Holt is very smart, he’ll think of something. And until the world discovers he’s alive and home, he has a chance to recover and think about what he’s going to do. I wouldn’t have that luxury. I wasn’t here to see it, but I’m sure the media was a circus when Kerberos mission announcement was made. I can only imagine what happened when they decided to release the cause of our disappearance.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away quickly so Shiro doesn’t have a chance to read the disappointment on his face. Actually, disappointment is such a weak word for the way he suddenly tanks into a thick, choking sadness. Shiro’s going to leave. It’s going to be just like Kerberos all over again, left behind, no idea when he’ll see Shiro again. And just like before, he understands why it needs to be done. He understands the weight of responsibility on Shiro’s shoulders and knows his word means everything. Keith isn’t so selfish as to ask Shiro to break his promise and stay behind, but he does wonder if he can ask to go back with him. Could he? Live on an alien ship, leave everything behind, maybe even have parts of himself replaced. The idea shouldn’t be so appealing.

But it is.

/

Since waking up, Lance has been thinking about the Garrison. When the sun first started peeking into the windows of Keith’s little house in the desert, he’d realized the upperclassmen would be buzzing their barrack doors and finding their beds empty. Lance had remembered to hang up his uniform before changing to go out. He had tried to recall how many times he’s been caught sneaking out while he lay on the rickety sofa with Pidge curled up by his legs. When they don’t find him this morning, what’s going to end up on his file? He’d been so caught up in chasing his hero and defying his rival, it had never even crossed his mind he could be making the biggest mistake of his life. He’d left his ocean—the salty air and his family—all so he could reach a bigger ocean, the sky, to be something no one else his brothers and sisters had ever aspired to be. And here he is, in the middle of nowhere with someone who’d washed out. He wonders if he’s next.

They gather outside the mouth of a cave. Lance shoves his hands in his pockets, clenches them into fists. As much as he wants to pretend the things Keith had said the day before were just crazy ramblings, even he can’t deny that there is  _ something _ out here. Maybe he’s crazy — he certainly made a conscious choice not to go back to the Garrison. Whatever is in these caves, he hopes it’s worth it.

“That’s where you found the carvings?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods. “Yeah, in here. They’re everywhere.” He is the first to step beyond the threshold, and the draw is getting so much stronger.

Lance doesn’t understand why he suddenly feels at home. In the midst of this entire strange escapade they’ve gone on, at the point where the weirdness really settled into his veins, it’s there. Listening to Shiro and Keith on their way here, he gets the sense of worlds crashing together and then drifting apart again. It seems serendipitous to see the hero he had followed leave again. He’s dizzy with the idea of losing it so soon, envious and angry with himself, until they’re swallowed up by the darkness inside the caves and he remembers what it’s like to stand at the edge of the ocean at high tide. He mocked Keith for his talk about feeling something out here, and now it’s as heavy as an anchor on his heart. He reaches up to touch one of the carvings, wanting to see more than just the dust-covered jaw of a mighty beast. He wants to see—

Light floods the cavern, as all around them, each and every mark of the lion— _ Blue _ —lights their way forward, and then he’s falling…

Lance’s spirit plunges into deep waters even though the pool his body lands in is only inches deep. His heart races, his eyes are wide, and everything seems to swallow itself into a thick void, voices around him sounding like they’re miles away. All his senses can focus on is the majestic machine-beast, safely within its sphere of protective light, watching him get closer. His own voice is foreign to him as he asks if the eyes are following them—no they really are. They reach the barrier and the sound vacuum disappears. Keith is beside him, muttering something about how to get in. It’s ridiculous, Lance almost laughs at himself for suggesting it. But he knew of no other way to get into a giant orb of light. So he knocks.  _ I’m here. Let me in _ .

Lance touches the barrier and it dissipates, just comes undone right under his hand. His mind swims through a torrent of images, of five lions and a warrior, a weapon, no longer a crazy whim, but something that is real. As the images fade, the Lion lowers its head to Lance, as if it’s been waiting for him. Everything in him tells him not to ignore the invitation, and he steps forward into the open mouth 

Only some of his bravado is actual confidence, and the rest is blind daring. He needs to have this, needs to make this connection. He seats himself in the cockpit of the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and it feels right. It’s not like the awkward nervousness he has when he steps into the simulator. He doesn’t have to joke and laugh and loudly overstate his skill. He scoots right up to the controls, his eyes wide and full of wonder as the screens start to flicker to life. There’s a rumble at the very core of this Lion, and it reverberates inside of him, guiding his fingers to the touch pads, telling him what to do. Suddenly, she’s  _ alive _ , moving under him, and he can barely breathe, he’s so excited.

_ Hello, beautiful. _

/

As the images fade, Shiro realizes his arm has reacted and quickly relaxes himself, hoping that the no one noticed. “This is what he’s looking for…” He clenches his fist as the lion moves, bites back a warning as Lance steps forward into the open mouth and takes a couple very careful deep breaths. Suddenly, all the rumours of Emperor Zarkon’s obsession with a fairy tale are no longer laughable.

Shiro follows Lance and the others into the lion, taking a good look around. The controls are familiar, not dissimilar from the pod or the simulator of the Galra fighter he’s trained on. But the language, the words...they’re not Galra, but they’re similar. He feels like he’s looking at the equivalent of kanji, with these rounder, more complicated symbols being the Chinese version and angular Galra the Japanese. “I don’t recognise these characters… They’re close but not,” he trails off. It’s like he’s learning all over again.

/

_ Sendak had been gone for most of the morning, in audience with Emperor Zarkon. Haxus made it a point to stay away from those meetings when he could. All it did was frustrate him these days—an update on the flourishing Galra empire, the course to the next quadrant of the universe that would fall. Their ruler set the stage time and again for conquest, driving his commanders, their crews, even the sentries to the edges of their limits. Haxus answered to Sendak’s orders once those meetings were over, but it had been a good long while since the Emperor sought even a moment of Haxus’s counsel. It was probably better that way.  _

_ He settled himself a bit more comfortably into the pillows, reflexively reaching out to the other creature in the nest with him. He pulled the Champion to him, hearing the surprised grunt and long-suffering sigh. He was always so testy about being pulled about and tucked close, though his protests faded much quicker than they used to.  _

_ Shiro wished he weren’t getting used to this. He eyed his cuffed hands and their closeness to Haxus’s face and decided the risk really wasn’t worth it. “I am not a teddy bear,” he muttered.  _

_ He still didn’t understand why Sendak was so focused on him, but both the commander and Haxus had pointed out that he was better off sleeping in a warm nest and given better food than most of the other Arena fighters. Sendak was proud of his Champion and Shiro knew it was better to remain strong and wait until he could get free than to waste away in a cell. He had to find the Holts and he had a better chance of that by staying close to the important Galra than being resistant to their claim. He was already picking up things here and there which would stand him well for an escape. _

_ Haxus wrinkled his nose, either because he could sense the split-second of decision or because he didn’t understand some of Shiro’s words. He had availed himself of a language device when Sendak started taking this human to his chambers. Most of the tech like it had vanished on ships long destroyed in the war or were tucked away as obsolete. After all, when a planet was conquered and the emperor has no need for negotiation, a device such as the one Haxus had employed became really rather useless. It allowed him to understand most of what was said to him, and vice versa. But ‘teddy bear’ seemed a strange combination of words, one that was an animal, and one that was not. “What is a ‘teddy bear’, pray tell?” Haxus sounded the words out carefully. _

_ “A child’s toy, usually soft and shaped like a harmless version of an Earth mammal.” Shiro had learned to keep his explanations as factual and simple as possible to avoid having to give more explanations. It was almost a game to see if he could get Haxus to get offended by how thoroughly he spelled out the explanation.  _

_ “To what purpose? Is it comfort?” He was sure it must be comfort. Though the closest thing to a human child he had seen was the smaller one Champion had driven away from the Arena with madness. Haxus did not speak to his suspicion that it was no madness at all, but a ploy to put himself—the stronger fighter—in the ring rather than his companion. The tie to his species was fascinating, as many many other captives had shoved their would-be allies right before the beasts to avoid going in themselves. That was a motivation he could understand, not the compassionate route. Then again, if it were his commander… “I do not draw you near for comfort.” What followed was a word that didn’t quite translate well. _

_ Shiro hadn’t asked its meaning, but they both used it often enough in context for him the get the gist. Something along the lines of “child” or even “brat”. Probably “brat”. It made him snort softly. “Yes, a teddy bear is usually an item of comfort.” He shifted so that he could look up at Haxus’s face, body braced against the other’s body for leverage. “Why am I here, then? You don’t actually have to do..whatever it is you’re doing right now. I’m not in desperate need of cuddles. And the commander will back soon enough. I’m pretty sure you don’t need cuddles that desperately either.” Shiro’s word choice was deliberate, just like Haxus’s had been. _

_ ‘Cuddles’ appeared to be one of those words that struck Haxus just as strangely as ‘teddy bear’, and with about the same amount of convoluted meaning. Again, it had the feel of being a word better suited for a child, and he wasn’t sure he enjoyed the human language palate very much. Also, why such a sugary tasting word for the warmth of a body against one’s own? It didn’t quite match up to the firm press of Shiro’s body, the sound was too...soft. He decided to ignore it. “What I am doing, Champion, is occupying your mind so that your mouth forms more useful sounds than that of your dreadfully thrown together dialects.”  _

_ He shifted his arm more securely around Shiro and raised his opposite hand. With a flick of his wrist, the ship’s computer whirred to life, and a screen easily half the size of the bed and appropriately angled for comfortable viewing in their position appeared. “Access primary level vocabulary module.” The screen went dark for a moment, then a series of Galran characters formed themselves in neat lines in two columns. Haxus nodded in satisfaction, his thumb absently brushing over the side of Shiro’s throat. _

_ “Tell me, can you read any of this?” He suspected the Champion was far more observant than even the Emperor gave him credit for. _

_ Shiro tensed when those sharp claws went towards his throat. They did that a lot, both Haxus and Sendak and the only thing that kept him from panicking about it was the fact that they did that to each other as well. Always the neck, the wrists. When he was relaxed, it was strangely soothing. Other times, he wasn’t so certain about how he felt about it. But right now, he was really far more interested in the screen. He could have lied, feigned ignorance, but he had a feeling Haxus would know he was lying. The Galra appreciated honesty, had little patience for liars and he didn’t want to lose what ground he’d gained. _

_ “...Some.” He shifted again, his cheek against Haxus’ shoulder, the cuffs on his wrists propped on the Galra’s ribs. “...North. Forward…” The few words he could identify were surrounded by ones he wasn’t familiar with and a bunch of article markers. The repetition and the spacing though… “These are directions, aren’t they?” _

_ Haxus smirked, pleased to know he’d been correct. That he’d allowed Shiro to see some of the screens on his control panels, let him listen to his commands to the drones, had been no coincidence. This creature had balanced his superior strength in the Arena with a sharp mind, his biting words as he succumbed to Sendak’s and Haxus’s attentions proved it. Distantly, he wondered if their initial assessment of the three humans the Galra had picked up on the distant moon had been incorrect. Scholars or warriors, perhaps both. Haxus walked that line, much more prominently in his years before Sendak had risen in the ranks and Zarkon’s empire had blossomed exponentially like blood welling up in a broken wound.  _

_ “They are. Galra young are encouraged to know movement. The planets are forever in motion, so should they be as well.” Shiro didn’t seem to know all the words, but pulled together context clues and matched up common symbols. “And this?” He sweeps his hand again, like turning a page. The characters were more complex, still with some base structure to them, but if Shiro were to reach the whole word, he would have to work harder at finding the context. _

_ Shiro huffed out a breath against Haxus’s shoulder. He recognized fewer words here, but some of them seemed to be combinations of the ones he did know. He started by mouthing them to himself, progressing out loud without really noticing until he got to something he hoped was a place name. “...How would you even pronounce that? I feel like it would sound like you were hacking up a hairball.” He wrinkled his nose. Then he snickered.  _

_ The laughter provoked a frown. “What exactly does that mean? Why would speaking be like a ball of hair? You make no sense.” Then again, he may have cheated and thrown in some names from the sentry rosters. He didn’t think Blytox would be very amused at being compared to a ball of hair being...hacked?  _

_ The image of Sendak or Haxus having a hairball was just too funny and Shiro couldn’t stop his snickers for several moments, made only funnier by Haxus’s clear misunderstanding of the term. Which only made him think of that look a cat gets when it’s clearly offended by something. He calmed himself long enough to explain. “There is a mammal on my planet that is often kept as a pet, a cat. It usually has fur and grooms itself extensively with a rough tongue that contains backwards barbs to comb through its fur. This results in swallowing some fur and when there is too much, it must cough up the resulting ball of hair. It’s a very distinctive wet coughing noise.”  _

_ He grinned up at Haxus. “Sometimes, you and Sendak remind me of cats.” He left the implications unspoken, but glanced at the screen again. _

_ Oh yes, Haxus was offended. “I can say with certainty that I have never seen the commander lick himself.” _

_ The look on Haxus’s face was priceless.  _ Don’t do it. Don’t say it _. “Of course not. That’s what he has you for.”  _ Oops _. Shiro was laughing so hard, he had to muffle himself against Haxus’s shoulder, only glancing up to see if that look had left Haxus’s face yet. He was shaking with the laughter and it felt good. He was probably going to pay for that one, but honestly, it was absolutely worth it. _

_ Haxus became still as he processed what had just come out of the Champion’s mouth. He hissed quietly, the word sounded like “insolent”, but it was distorted under the unrepentant laughter pressed into his chest. Then he sighed, knowing he respected the human for having it in him to sass back like that. It was another of those unexpected things about their chosen, but not at all underappreciated. The exhale trembled at the end, then became a chuckle all its own. “Fair point,” he conceded, then laughed harder. _

_ They were actually laughing together. For a moment, Shiro forgot about the cuffs that stayed on his wrists whenever he left his cell, forgot about the Arena, and just...laughed. It was stupid — a stupid, silly joke, but they shared it. He was warm, he was comfortable and right then, Haxus didn’t feel like an enemy, but something that approached a possible ally, a possible friend. It felt like forever since he’d laughed with a friend. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where our heroes meet a beautiful princess in a castle. Which sounds awesome...until it's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has not quite been beta'd, so apologies for any mistakes you might see. I was just too excited to post this on schedule. Thank you for all your feedback, kudos and support! <3

The castle is like nothing any of the cadets have ever seen before. It doesn’t resemble anything from their history books, only its stature and presence drawing to mind the idea that a castle has to be what it is. The Blue Lion grants them entrance, but before the doors are even closed, it has disappeared to someplace else, presumably close by because Lance feels its movements in his chest still, and it’s not leaving him, that much he knows. With as much wariness as genuine curiosity, the five of them enter within, the castle coming to life with every step they take. It lights up, much like the carvings had in the cavern before they found the Blue Lion. Is this where the others are? Is there anything still living here? Hunk calls out, perhaps just to hear the sound of someone’s voice, even his own, but nothing answers them. The castle’s defenses are to be the only living thing, scanning them when they reach an area that just looks like an empty room. 

Pidge has overridden her fear to geek out about all the technology presenting itself to her. She peers up at the control panels, not touching, but trying figure out how in the world to make things work. Hunk would likely be doing the same if he weren’t more insistent on staying close to the others. 

Shiro’s never seen anything like it, but it feels old. It’s waiting for something and he has a feeling that the Lion is only the beginning. He really does need to get back to his ship, but he’s not going to leave the others until he’s reasonably certain they’re going to be all right. If he can, he’ll get them home, at least the ones that want to go. He looks around, the cool blue of the standard lighting a stark contrast to the low-lit Galra purple. Clearly, whatever race built this castle wasn’t as nearly nocturnal as the Galra tended to be. He’s still wondering if it’s just a building or more. He swears he can feel the barely perceptible hum of an engine crystal. Maybe they’ll find some kind of records, something about the creators of this place, perhaps even the creators of the Lion.

He’s due to get his answer much quicker than expected. The floor rumbles beneath their feet, and revealing two of the decorative circles in the floor to be much more than mere decoration. They are pods of some sort, each with a person inside of it, rising up to their full height and locking into place The others draw closer to Shiro; they’re out of their element completely. This is the stuff of sci-fi movies and books, myths that places like the Garrison try to dispel. Explore space, but don’t expect to find aliens; make technology to reach the stars, but nothing like it exists. Well, that much is true, on Earth there is nothing like this castle, nothing like that Lion, nothing like anything Shiro himself has seen and come to accept as real. Something greater than all of them combined is beginning to wake, and it starts with the first pod opening. 

A young woman stumbles out of it, and Lance’s white knight complex rears up. In a few strides, he’s right there to catch her, making sure she knows just who saved her. It’s laughable until she’s insulting him, seconds before his arm is painfully twisted behind his back while she shouts demands. 

“A big blue lion brought us here,” Lance announces in the hopes she’ll loosen her grip. “That’s all we know!”

That seems to make it worse. 

“How do you have the blue lion? Where is its paladin?”

Shiro clenches his jaw and steps forward. “Look, we don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Let him go. We mean you no harm.” The words are an uncomfortable echo of the ones he’d spoken to the Galra commander that had taken him and his crew off Kerberos. He’s not losing another crew to aliens. 

Not ever again. 

Her head snaps up at the sound of his voice. She takes one look at Shiro and his uniform. Whatever anger had been on her face at the sight of Lance is nothing to the rage that overtakes it. She tosses him to the side like a rag doll. Lance stumbles and it’s a miracle he doesn’t go down on his face from the force. 

“Monster! You are not welcome in my castle!” She lunges for Shiro this time, intent on harm.

Hunk and Pidge step back, flanking Shiro as Keith and Lance move to be his shield. Their shoulders crash together, they glare at each other for a split second before bracing themselves for her impact. 

Shiro’s hands are up immediately. “Look, miss… I’m not trying to-”

It all happens so fast, the woman’s fingers twisting in the sleeve of Keith’s jacket, the first thing to come to hand. She jerks him forward, getting a yelp from him before her other hand grasps the side of his neck and shoves him bodily into Lance. They both crash to the floor.

“Lance!” Hunk yells.

Shiro steps forward as if he can somehow do something about Keith and Lance in a tangled heap. He still has his hands up to show he has no intention of being violent, though after her attack, Shiro feels like he could get violent. His arm tries to activate and he pushes back the reaction, unwilling to escalate this into lethal force. Not with the other four here, not when he has no idea what they’ve walked into. It makes him wish he’d somehow managed a change of clothes, but it’s not like Shiro knew that they’d run into someone who’d go ballistic over his uniform. 

He’s so focused on the woman that he notices the motion behind him a second too late. He’s braced for a battle, now with two opponents, but this isn’t the Arena. Maybe if he can just… He turns but an arm slings around his neck like steel bar. A pinch just under his ear and sudden darkness.

/

Shiro is down. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Keith yells to the other stranger standing over Shiro’s limp body. The man is tall and lean, with brightly colored hair. He also looks pretty damn smug as he rolls his shoulders. “He just told you he didn’t mean you any harm!”

“He wears the uniform of the Galra,” the woman snaps back. “Harm is all they know.”

Pidge squares her shoulders. “You don’t even know him! You don’t even know us! You can’t just come out of your pod-thing and start hurting people!”

“He’s not actually hurt. Much,” the newcomer says proudly, twisting the end of his mustache between his thumb and forefinger. “You see, it’s a pretty effective technique, quick and painless. It wouldn’t do to start a battle right here in the cryo room.” 

Hunk, with a scared but determined look on his face, steps forward, finding himself at the center of all the commotion, which is the last place he wants to be. “Look, no one wants to start any battles anywhere, okay?” Already, the others are moving to his back, though Keith tries to maneuver himself the closest to reach Shiro at the soonest opportunity. “Will you please just listen to us? We’re not fighters, we’re  _ explorers _ .” He draws on everything the Garrison ever tried to say about the cadets, the pilots, all the engineers and people who wanted to fly into space. It’s always been at the epicenter of his heart, driving him to stick with the program, even when he still couldn’t get the hang of flying without being sick. Being afraid of heights didn’t stop him from wanting to see the stars. “We don’t know where we are, we don’t know who you are, but what we do know is that Lion—it’s your Lion, right?—brought us here. It called to us, and when we answered, it took us to this planet and this castle. It’s the farthest we’ve ever been from home. The last thing we want is a fight.”

For the first time, the woman’s fists lower to her sides, though she isn’t ready to unclench them yet. Her posture slips out of the offensive and into the defensive, shoulders tight, but no longer coiled to jump at the nearest cadet. She takes a deep breath. “Where is the pilot?”

They all look at each other, Keith and Lance narrow their eyes, but they both know the answer. 

Lance steps forward. “Me. Blue chose me.”

/

Keith crosses his arms. He hasn’t moved from his spot since the one called Coran took Shiro down to a holding cell at the woman’s command. He’s angry, seething in fact, but he fights to control his breathing. In the back of his head, a little voice—Shiro’s voice—patience yields focus. It will do him well to heed it now, when they are clearly at a disadvantage to an advanced race and a castle of wonders Pidge can’t stop staring at. Though he’s only known them for less than a day, Keith feels obligated to protect them in Shiro’s place, knowing he would have wanted to ensure the Garrison cadets remained safe. Well, as safe as they can be on the other side of a wormhole and in way over their heads. He can’t help but feel partially responsible; he’d led them right to the caves and headfirst into this mess. It’s no time for blame, he just needs to focus.

The princess is a bully, not without reason, Keith decides, but a bully. He wonders how much of that confidence is forced as she rolls right from one point to the next. As if removing Shiro from the room has made her more amenable to explaining herself, he still doesn’t like where it’s going. She’s painting a grand destiny for them and Keith feels like she’s recruiting soldiers. Not asking, stating it like there’s no reason to question. The only thing still keeping him remotely invested is that part of her spiel aligns with what Shiro said about the aliens that captured him. They’re conquering and they need to be stopped.

Her hook has become the other Lions. Keith watches Pidge’s eyes get wide, Hunk’s face contort in hopeful confusion and Lance grins like he’s just found the thing he was meant to do. It feels like a trap, makes Keith’s spine itch, and he lets it continue until the last reaches him. The Red Lion,  _ unpredictable, temperamental, instincts, faster _ . Just when he thinks he can ignore the pull of this so-called destiny, he sees Red before him, takes in her lean design and something  _ yanks _ at his insides. They’re connected. He smiles in spite of himself, but the moment passes with a snide comment from Lance, bringing him right back to the situation at hand. They’re not warriors.  _ Not yet _ .

Keith looks around him and realizes her story has done its work, they’re actually  _ considering _ finding the other lions,  _ considering _ waking the Black Lion and forming Voltron. They’re thinking about going to war. Well, Keith knows one thing for certain. 

“You’re wasting your breath,” he says, his lack of formality or filters startling the occupants in the room, particularly the princess. Good. He has everyone’s attention now. “You’re assuming we’ll fly for just anyone, for two strangers we just met on the other side of the universe. There’s only one person I’m gonna fly for, and you just threw him in your dungeon.”

/

Between his original abduction and his days in the arena, Shiro has become very tired of waking up in an unknown place. He holds still, keeps his breathing even as he determines where he is. It’s cold metal beneath him, the air smells musty from disuse, and his neck is bruised. Slowly, he remembers the day’s events and the argument in what must have been some kind of cryopod room. He’s alone down in this dungeon, which hints that they others may still be safe, if they haven’t acted too rashly. He knows Keith’s temper and knows Pidge is willing to go through great lengths to get what she wants. Perhaps one of the other cadets had been the voice of reason. He thinks about that. Maybe Hunk had been the voice of reason.

He hears footsteps approaching, a single person, and as they come closer, he can make out the untamed silver-white hair and dark skin of the woman that came out of the cryo pod swinging. Her stature is proud, she carries herself as if she’s someone important. Whether it’s true or not, she certainly believes it to be so. Her eyes are bright like blue fire opal, but they’re burning, hot and angry. As she comes to a halt outside of his cell, she folds her hands in front of her and spends time getting a more thorough look at him. Her forehead wrinkles in obvious frustration, lips set in a firm line. She is trying to figure out what to say to him, how to address him when she can barely stand the sight of him. 

“I am Princess Allura of planet Altea. You wear the marks of a Galra lieutenant.” She takes a deep breath. “The last time I saw such a Galra uniform, my planet was being destroyed. I cannot let you roam freely.”

“I earned these marks, Princess.” It’s not the best way to open, but he can’t fault her reasoning. “I’m not here as anything more than someone who was with the cadets when they found the Blue Lion. Like I said before, I mean you no harm. Are the cadets all right? Or are they now your prisoners too?”

“You are currently my only prisoner, and so long as they continue to cooperate, it will stay that way. You were not searching for the Blue Lion with these ‘cadets’? You just  _ found _ it?”

Shiro eyebrow twitches at the accusation in her voice. “ _ Yes _ . We found it. I was tying up some personal loose ends on Earth. Keith took us to see these carvings and Lance apparently woke up the Blue Lion. He took her for a ride, we encountered a Galra battle cruiser and I told him to evade. Then the wormhole appeared and we voted to go through it. The Lion took us to your castle, we followed the handily lit path to the cryo room and then you and your friend woke up and attacked us.” He has to fight to keep his own tone even, trying to get through to her. “Look, all I’m trying to do is to make sure they’re all right. They look up to me and it’s my responsibility to see them through.”

“Those cadets you have brought with you are meant to be here,” she says with certainty. “The Blue Lion would not have taken them through the wormhole, much less allowed one of them to pilot it, if they were not important. While I fail to see the reason in allowing you as well, I can only assume it understands you were their caretaker. Now that they’ve been delivered here, they have a much more substantial purpose. I would be inclined to set you on your own, but you are tied to the Galra, with your  _ earned _ rank, and I cannot afford them tracing you back to us and the Blue Lion before we’re ready.”

Shiro wants to roll his eyes so badly it hurts. The princess reminds him of some of the new recruits at the Garrison when he’d been there. The ones who joined because they had dreams of the accolades they would earn, the adventures they would have, the idealistic ones who glowed with their almost-divine Purpose In Life. Shiro gets it, she’s young and from what she said, she’s lost everything and sees the Blue Lion as her remaining hope. He has no idea how old she really is, but in that moment, he feels ancient. Somewhere, Haxus is probably laughing.

“Have you asked them what  _ they _ want out of this? Your grand purpose may be all and well, but don’t they get any say in it?” Shiro doesn’t like the feeling that somehow, he led them to this, to this young woman who doesn’t even know them insisting that they do whatever it is she plans on doing. They’ve been dropped straight into a war it will be almost impossible to win. “I’m not real thrilled at the idea of sitting in this cell until you decide you’re ‘ready’ either. If I don’t either report back or come back within the next few days, my commander will go looking for me. I gave my word to return, Princess, and I will not break it.”

“They know that if a Galra cruiser was that close to their planet, it won’t be too long before Zarkon’s reach extends to the place they call home. I do not want to see them lose their planet the way I did mine. Their Lions are already waiting for them, and they are preparing to go retrieve them.” She had baited them. Shiro clenches his teeth. “I will make a pact with you, soldier. Help your ‘cadets’ find and return the other Lions to this castle, and then you will be free to return to your commander.”

It sounds like a reasonable compromise. It also sounds like a good way to track him back and attack first. Whichever is true, he can do less in this cell than he can by going along with her bargain. His life certainly has been full of these compromises lately. The lesser of two evils. “All right. That sounds fair enough. What do I need to do?”

“Come with me.” Allura isn’t happy about it, but she releases the lock on the door and waits for him to step out first, unwilling to put her back to him. He can’t really blame her. She leads him back up into the more public areas of the castle, past the cryo room and onto what is likely the bridge, alive with screens and windows looking onto the planet’s green hills and the blue sky beyond. It’s there that the other four have assembled, along with the Altean who took Shiro down, whom Allura addresses as Coran.

“Shiro!” Keith hurries over to him, checking him over. “You’re all right!”

“I’m fine.” Shiro smiles down at Keith and puts a hand on his shoulder. He gives them all a quick once over to make sure that none of them managed to get injured either. He looks at the man who knocked him out and offers a nod of acknowledgment. “You had the advantage, you know.” It still took skill, but Shiro can’t help pointing it out. He meets Coran’s eyes, making it clear that if it were to come down to a fight again, the next time would not be nearly so easy to take him down. 

Coran smirks and twists his moustache, everything about the gesture showing he’s reading exactly what Shiro is trying to tell him. He’s not at all ashamed of striking when he did. He is a soldier too.

Then Shiro’s attention is back on the group, his smile reassuring them that really, he is all right and everything’s going to be just fine. It’s a well-practiced act.

“I’m gonna take Hunk to find the Yellow Lion,” Lance announces proudly, with his thumb against his own chest. “Pidge needs to go find the Green Lion, but we don’t know where the Red One is. Someone’s gotta be here when the princess finds it.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere until they let you out,” Keith grumbles. “We came here together, that means we’re all in this together.”

When Shiro smiles this time, it’s all for Keith. He can feel that warmth in the core of him, that his prickly best friend still cares and is still willing to stand up for him, still willing to get into fights for his honor. “Thank you.” He looks over them again and makes a decision. “I’ll go with Pidge to find the Green Lion . Keith, you should stay here in case the Red Lion’s location shows up.” 

He turns to Allura, his tone more professional courtesy with her. “Could you show me the coordinates for the Yellow and Green Lions? I’m familiar with this sector’s current state.” He tries not to emphasize ‘current’. Much.

Allura narrows her eyes at him, but she waves her hand so that the coordinates come back up. She’s not willing to do the whole song and dance for him, an abbreviated recap will suffice. “The Yellow and Green Lions will both require a wormhole jump, so I’m not sure how far your reach extends regarding your familiarity.”

From one of the other control panels, Coran helpfully pipes up. “According to my calculations, both planets are relatively peaceful, so if you don’t make it back before your wormhole closes, you can live out the rest of your lives there.”

Keith’s fists clench at his sides as the others start to protest. They’re being toyed with, and it riles his temper when he can’t help but rise to the bait. It’s only Shiro’s voice that stills him.

“Does ‘peaceful’ mean something else in Altean?” Shiro points to the Yellow lion’s location. “You probably don’t want to live out the rest of your life there since they just started up a mining operation on that planet. I don’t recall anything about where the Green Lion is, so either it’s unknown or untouched. Either way, Pidge and I should be fine.” 

He catches Lance’s eyes to make sure that the cadet is listening to him. “Lance, you’ll want to be careful not to get spotted. Or go in prepared for combat. But if you’re cautious, you may be able to get in under the radar. I would suggest breaking atmosphere on the far side of the planet and making your way close to the ground, if you can. You’ll avoid the ship scans and can surprise whatever detachments are between you and the lion. Try for speed. Get in, get the Lion, and get out.” It’s an order, but he needs to make certain both Lance and Hunk understand that this is far more serious than they might be ready for. He thinks about going with them, but he’s not going to let Pidge go off on her own. Just in case.

Lance draws his shoulders up straighter. “Yeah, I’ve got it.” There may or may not be a nervous lilt to his voice, but he plows over it with a confident, “Don’t you worry, Shiro. Hunk and I will be back with the Yellow Lion before you know it.”

“Everybody get ready to make the jump,” Allura says as two columns rise up for her hands to lay against, connecting her to the ship’s power. “You’ll have two hours from the time you go to return, so hurry back as quickly as you can.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three out of five Lions reclaimed, but the red one... it's on the ship belonging to Shiro's commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of days late with this update, due to family things, sorry about that! Hope you enjoy this installment!

A couple hours later, Shiro is still running high off the adrenaline of finding the Green Lion and flying the pod back behind Pidge as she tests out its flight capabilities. He’s smiling as he thinks back on her stream of consciousness, but the look of Hunk and Lance upon their return takes the joy out of his face. Hunk seems all right, shaken, but still feeling what Shiro’s beginning to think of the Lion-bond high. Lance on the other hand…

“Hey,” Shiro catches Lance’s attention. “You all right?”

Lance starts at the touch. He offers him a shaky smile. “Yeah.” He picks at the cuff of his jacket. “Tried to do what you said but they still came after us pretty hard. Hunk was awesome, he saved me with the Yellow Lion.”

Which translated as Lance had been in a situation where he  _ needed _ to be saved and that made Shiro wince. His hand is on Lance’s shoulder before he even thinks about it, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. “You made it back. You’re all right. You did exactly what you set out to do, Lance. Good job.” Shiro doesn’t know him well enough to say more, to pinpoint what it is that most affected him, but he hopes that just being reminded of those things will help. “It’s nothing like the simulator. The fact that you’re here and not gibbering in a corner is a win, Lance. Trust me. Combat affects everyone differently.” And a cadet shouldn’t be facing combat at all at this point. Especially since the Garrison was an exploratory program. Shiro certainly hadn’t been prepared either.

“Thanks, Shiro.” Lance smiles a real smile, not full of his usual arrogance. “All right, what next?”

Shiro pats his shoulder one more time, then does the same to Hunk while offering him a smile. Any words he would have said are interrupted by Coran’s news.

“Good news, we found the red lion! Bad news is it’s on that Galra ship orbiting Arus. But good news again, we’re Arus!”

Shiro lets the following commotion flow over him and sighs. “Princess,” he cuts through the argument already forming. “Can you pull up the emissions signature of the ship in orbit? I might recognize it.”

Allura looks like she wants to say something about that, ‘ _ and then what _ ?’ practically written across her features. Despite that, she does as asked, her fingers moving over the controls on one of the screens, and the large one before them flashes the readings for all to see.

Stomach sinking, Shiro stares at the familiar readings on the screen. He licks his lips, wondering how Sendak could hide something like the red lion on his ship. Not that he hid it from Shiro, but that he hid it at all. “That’s...my commander’s ship.”

Keith turns and looks at him, his expression conflicted, and his arms tighter across his chest than before. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but Hunk beats him to it, ever hopeful for the peaceful way out. “Don’t suppose he’d let you have the Red Lion if you asked nicely would he?”

The soft snort is just short of the laugh that wants to be let out. “I don’t know.” Shiro takes a slow, deep breath. “He might.” If Shiro could persuade him. If Sendak hadn’t told Zarkon about the Lion. If he can persuade Haxus that it’s the correct course of action. If, if, if… “If I can take a pod up with Keith, it’s possible. If nothing else, they won’t shoot me down.”  _ Probably _ .

It looks like the last thing Allura wants to do, but even she seems to understand that it’s either this or a full-on attack that three out of five pilots may not be ready for. 

“Just us?” Keith asks, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “It’s your commander’s ship, but what if they fire on us? What if he doesn’t let us take it?

“They won’t fire on us if I hail them.”  _ Hopefully _ . “And if I can’t persuade him to let you have the Red Lion, I can still barter for your safe return back to the surface so you can figure out a different plan.” Shiro hopes he sounds more confident than he feels. He doesn’t know Sendak’s reasons for having the Red Lion and not knowing those makes it difficult for him to know what direction to take his argument. 

Keith still looks unsure, but he nods. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“It would be nice not to have to fight that huge alien battleship for the Red Lion, I’m just saying,” Hunk adds helpfully.

“All right, let’s go.”

/

“Sir, a pod has launched from the Altean castle on Arus,” Haxus says calmly, even though he has a good idea what it might be coming for. He tilts his head to look at his commander. “Shall I prepare the ion cannon or should we send a signal to the castle?”

Sendak frowns, watching the pod break atmo. It is indeed heading straight for them. Strange, he had expected the Lions to be sent, not a single pod with limited weaponry. Either the Alteans and their new paladins are very terrible at being stealthy, or there’s something more going on than they can currently see. “Do not shoot it down. Whatever firepower or defenses it has is puny at best. Let us see what it intends to do.”

From within the pod, Shiro braces himself and loops the ship around in a maneuver that would have given his Garrison instructors a heart attack. He hopes he has their attention. His hands move over the controls, the Altean pod not dissimilar from the Galra ones he’s used to -- and sometime later, he’ll puzzle through that but for now -- he presses the communications array to hail the battle cruiser.

“It is...hailing us?” Haxus trails off with a quirked brow, glancing at Sendak.

“Allow it.” 

Slender fingers only take but a moment to call up a visual to the pod, answering the array. Haxus freezes when he sees Shiro’s face. Sendak is by his side in an instant. 

“Champion, there had better be a good explanation for you returning to me in an Altean craft,” Sendak rumbles. 

“Yes, sir.” Shiro’s shoulders, already rigid with tension, straighten under their gaze. “It’s something of a long story. May we dock?” He’s all too aware of Keith in the pod with him, falling back on the formality they always revert to over comms, just in case someone is trying to listen. He wonders if the news of the Lions has already reached his commander. 

“You may. I hope your guest is well-behaved.” Sendak and Haxus vanish from the screen, leaving them staring out at the black and the approaching battle cruiser, making its turn to present the flank with docking bays for Shiro to maneuver into.

Keith stares ahead, as if he can still see the Galra commander and his second on the panel. His brow furrows, and he finally lets his gaze slide over to Shiro. “You...really were captured by aliens,” he says incredulously.

Shiro Looks at him. He thinks the arm should have given it away. “Yes.” 

Keith spread his hands with a completely unapologetic look on his face. “It’s a pretty fair statement, Shiro. I’ve never seen aliens. The Alteans don’t count when they look like they stepped out of a fantasy movie. What I just saw on the screen looked like a giant purple cat bat with a bionic eye.  _ That _ is an alien, and until we left Earth, I didn’t think I would be getting to meet some, much less find myself mixed up in an intergalactic war with giant robot cats.”

Lips twitching, Shiro doesn’t even try to stop the quiet snort of laughter. “I compare them to cats all the time.” He smiles at the memory. “They are occasionally offended.” 

/

_ “Cats range from the domestic pet to large wild variants. Even the pets are considered fierce hunters, as well as successful ones. A kitten no bigger than my hand will still hiss and arch its spine and attack if it feels threatened, no matter how much larger the opponent might be.” Shiro looked up at Haxus and smiled. “The domestic and smaller wild breeds also purr when they are content. It sounds like a low rumble.”  _

_ Shiro knew full well how both of them sounded when they reached a place between quiet and contentment. Haxus reveled in the times he could rouse a noise like that from Sendak. He presumed his word for it and Shiro’s word for it had much the same meaning. When the commander descended into that sound, it was low and strong, humming into the bed, thrumming in his chest. Haxus took pride in eliciting it, it was a coveted thing, a noise between trusted Galra in a closely shared space. “You could say that we ‘purr’,” he once more said it carefully. “You have heard it yourself, haven’t you.” It wasn’t a question. _

_ “...yes.” Shiro’s cheeks flushed, and he turned his face in what he knew was a useless attempt to hide it. He’d heard Sendak purr; he’d heard Haxus too. It didn’t help that Sendak was particularly...insistent on bringing Shiro close at those times, like he needed to keep all he considered ‘his’ literally within his grasp. Shiro shifted uncomfortably against Haxus and tried not to react to the line of thought his mind was following. _

_ This time, there was a decidedly more husky tone to Haxus’s chuckle. Shiro wondered at the evolution of this, from the grudging acceptance to patch up a dirty human after an Arena battle to sharing his meals with it and now holding him like a favored creature. It had happened subtly under their notice, unasked for, unexpected. And yet, now the Champion was theirs, and he meant to feed this, root Shiro so firmly into the inner workings of this ship and this empire.   _

_ Shiro shifted again, desperate to change the subject. Sort of. “What changed your mind about me?” The question was rushed, but he wanted to know. “I mean, when the commander first brought me back here, you hated me. Disapproved. And now,” Shiro shrugged, indicating their current position, curled up on the bed together. “Now you’re teaching me Galran. Why?” _

_ They’ve had talks like this before, wary questions while Haxus cleaned wounds and quietly sewed them closed. The answers didn’t change too drastically from the one time to the next, but he indulged Shiro’s distracting curiosity anyway. _

_ “I am not entirely convinced I approve yet,” Haxus answered, making it clear where Shiro’s place still was without being entirely insulting about it. “However, since it’s obvious Sendak has chosen you and shows no sign of rescinding that anytime soon, I have no choice but to accept. There are two ways you leave the Arena, Champion. You die in battle, or you are the victor enough times that you are seen as being worthy of attention. Suffice to say, you have Commandor Sendak’s attention, something else you are very aware of.” Haxus smirked, took a deep breath of Shiro’s embarrassment and desire. Sendak had done so well with Shiro, he’d learned so much. “You have already begun ascending to something more than entertainment, and if you are to last beyond that, you need to be educated.” _

_ Shiro couldn’t even be insulted at the idea of needing to be educated. There was so much he didn’t know out here, so much he would need to learn to- He stopped the thought before it could continue, locked it away in the corner of his mind, where thoughts of his crew were stored, and turned his attention back to Haxus. He was well aware of the commander’s attention and how it bled into his interactions with Haxus, Sendak’s mate. But what Haxus was talking about… “Something...more?”  _

_ He sat up, well used to maneuvering with the cuffs, so he could look Haxus in the face directly. “I still don’t know what caught Sendak’s attention about me, Haxus. It’s not like he needs the entertainment. There’s no reason for him, or you, to care about me ‘lasting’. No reason for you to treat me as you do, to teach me, to take chances by making it clear that I’m to be treated only by you now rather than the medics they keep in the cells.” Shiro inhaled slowly to slow the rush of words that wanted to keep flowing. “I’m not complaining, I know it’s far better than what other prisoners get. I know it makes me stronger, more likely to win in the Arena when I’m well-fed, well-rested and allowed to heal properly, but I don’t understand why Sendak decided I was worth his attention in the first place. He’s never answered the question and all you’ve given me in the past is that he has his reasons.” _

_ “That hasn’t changed, Champion. He does have his reasons, and that is all you may know until he can tell you the answer. Though truth be told, he himself may not know it. I can tell you that you are strong and powerful a hundred times over, and you will still wonder. We can marvel at how much like a Galra you fight, victory or death. He can claim you over and over again and still he may not know.  _

_ What is important to me is that I have nothing to fear from you. He does not seek to replace me with you, and that has spared your life.” A smile pulled at his lips, the words dangerous. “There is something in you that cannot be given words, neither in your language nor mine. It calls to Sendak, some part of him. That may be all you ever know. It is enough for him, and therefore enough for me.” _

_ “Um.” Shiro swallowed, mesmerized by Haxus’s gaze as he spoke. He looked away, felt his face burning, his fingers twisting in the sheets. He was at a loss for how to react, because it wasn’t an answer to his question the way he wanted, but it was an answer Haxus could give him that rang true. He had a feeling he would give a similar answer if they asked him why he didn’t try to attack them any more, or fight too hard against them. There was something there, something that he realized was verging on trust. Shiro didn’t want to replace Haxus, had no intentions of ever trying because that wasn’t what was between him and Sendak. And all of that being ‘strong and powerful’ that Haxus and even Sendak liked to tell him from time to time? What was he supposed to do with that? Especially when it was clear that Haxus meant it. Shiro also knew that telling him he fought like a Galra was intended as a compliment. Shiro shifted uncomfortably again. _

_ “It really troubles you not to have an answer you can understand.” Haxus flashed Shiro a rueful smile. “Welcome to my world.” It sounded as if it was meant mostly in a humorous light, a simple offering of solidarity for this thing that existed between them that technically should not.  _

_ Shiro could practically taste the bitter truth under the jest and found himself lying back down against Haxus’s side. He might have been crazy to think so, but the bitterness seemed to belong to something deeper, more than just Shiro and what Sendak felt about sponsoring him. It spoke from the tension and weariness Haxus wore on his shoulders, how he said all the right things as a loyal subordinate, all the while staying in the shadows of political unrest and posturing of the empire. It was as if Haxus didn’t quite fit, and more importantly, didn’t want to. _

_ Shiro found it difficult to maneuver his hands to catch one Haxus’s, but once he did, it was simple to stroke his fingers over the pulse point. _

_ He had learned it was calming, something done in affection, in trust. The fact that he was compelled to comfort a Galra would have terrified him months ago. Now it was just another part of how weird his life had become. _

_ Haxus sighed, his eyes closing so he could focus on the Champion’s caresses. Shiro learned, it was one of the things he had grown fond of the quickest. For all their talk about accepting his presence, Haxus didn’t immediately feel drawn to Shiro like Sendak had. Shiro had needed to earn what Haxus felt now, and he had done it almost exclusively by being attentive, retaining all that he was taught, and occasionally still struggling against the tide they were all swept in.  _

_ How things had changed. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a dream is passed on to someone else, like a reluctant gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'd just like to say thank you again for all your wonderful comments and support of this story! We greatly appreciate it and hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Sendak and Haxus meet Shiro and Keith in the docking bay. The commander looks none too pleased, first at Shiro, then at his companion. Haxus keeps his expression neutral, but there is still some warmth to his tone as he steps forward.

“I admit, this is sooner than I expected you to return from Earth, Shiro. Is this one of the snacks you have promised us?” he flashes a bit of his fangs and relishes the startled look on Keith’s face when he does.

Shiro rolls his eyes at Haxus’s excuse for humour and shoots Sendak a glance that says ‘he thinks he’s funny’. “Keith isn’t a snack.” Somehow he manages to convey the sentiment of ‘you overgrown predator’ with his tone. “He’s my protege.” Then his own sorry excuse for humor rears its head. “More along the lines of a souvenir, really.”

Keith is so tense beside him and Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. “Keith, this is Commander Sendak and Lieutenant Haxus.”

Keith manages a respectful nod while the two Galra respond in kind.

“If he is a souvenir, are you to keep him then?” Sendak wonders. “Or did you bring him for another reason?”

Moments of truth are so difficult when they actually happen to real people. Shiro’s heartbeat thunders in his chest. “He’s not mine to keep, sir. He’s here to claim his ship.” It takes concentrated effort to meet Sendak’s eyes, the solid golden glow of them as intense as ever, only focused on him right now. “The one you have somewhere in the hold.”

Sendak’s eyes narrow. “Just because he wears the armor doesn’t mean it’s his ship to claim.”

“He won’t know unless you let him try.” All the steel of Sendak’s Champion is in Shiro’s voice, the words of a Galra lieutenant that could be a commander in all but name.

Sendak’s nostrils flare. It’s a challenge and he knows it. “Haxus.”

“Sir.”

“Scramble our coordinates and lock down the lower level. Not a single sentry is to set foot in the hold.” At Haxus’s nod and swift departure, Sendak bares his teeth at the two humans before him. “Come with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Shiro follows behind Sendak, looking over at Keith. He tries to read him and his reaction to the ship, as well as his reaction to the Galra in person. “Is this enough alien tech for you?”

Keith’s jaw works, but nothing comes out at first. He sticks close to Shiro’s side as they follow Sendak, but he remembers. The night before the Kerberos mission, sitting quietly with Shiro and completely ignoring the movie they’d put on. Shiro was too keyed up and Keith was too focused on making the night last as long as possible. Shiro had jokingly spouted off promises that sounded so ridiculous back then, but are as real as can be now. “Yeah. And if this goes the way it’s supposed to, you’ll have even brought me back a spaceship.” He’s not sure what to make of the interactions between Shiro and Sendak, and it’s obvious. Shiro is proud to have become part of this alien hierarchy, but there’s more to the story, a depth to it and the things that went unsaid. Keith wants to know all of it, and somehow, he has a feeling he’ll leave here with all of his questions and no Shiro to answer them.

They stop before a set of large double doors down in the hold. It feels like there isn’t a single other sign of life down here, empty and hollow, it’s unnerving. Sendak pauses, as if he’s making a decision with himself, and then finally lays his palm against the sensor. Shiro is the only other one who knows the ship well enough to see that the scan takes much longer than usual. It isn’t just reading key lines in Sendak’s palm, it’s decoding the whole signature of his hand, one of the highest security features he can employ on the battle cruiser. The panel flashes and the doors groan open like a sleeping beast.

“I have brought you some company,” Sendak announces.

Keith’s entire being quakes as a rumble sounds from within. It reminds him of finding Blue, but deeper, like a flare in his chest, like it could be _his_. The cadence of his breathing starts to pick up. “It’s here.”

Shiro feels the presence of the Red Lion like a rush of hot air that steals his breath, makes his chest tight and his adrenaline surge. He hadn’t felt the Green Lion nearly so strongly, just a sense of watchfulness, a waiting. Clearly, neither the Blue nor Red Lions are as subtle. Then again, neither are their paladins.

He watches the way Keith’s eyes light up and focus on the particle barrier holding the Red Lion. Shiro wants to ask Sendak how long it’s been here, if Zarkon knows he has it, why he has it… And why he looks at the metal beast with something approaching regret. “Sir,” he trails off, unsure whether he’s about to apologize for bringing Keith here or begin his explanation as to why.

“This is the ship you’re looking to claim, isn’t it, boy?” Sendak looks at Keith now, hard and unforgiving, as if he’s waiting for Keith to flinch or give him a single sign he isn’t strong enough to have what’s his.

Keith nods, and he follows Shiro’s lead. “Yes, sir.”

Sendak quirks a brow. “Protege indeed.” To Shiro, “Is he worthy enough to fly her, my Champion?”

Shiro meets his challenge with his own narrow look. “He’s _my_ protege.”

Sendak smiles, proud of his Earth-born consort, he who would climb up in rank to stand next to him on the bridge. It is answer enough. His gaze flickers over to Haxus, who has rejoined them, lingering back to give Sendak room, something reverent about the way he nods to the Red Lion. It’s not the first time he’s seen it. Sendak steps right up to the particle barrier and lays his hand against it. “If this would-be paladin calls to you, go to him.” He lowers his head. “He will be a far better pilot for you than I ever could be.”

Shiro aches inside. He’s never heard that tone in Sendak’s voice. He turns back to Keith and pushes him forward. “Go on, cadet. Say hello.” He wonders if Keith realizes he’s just seen Sendak give over a dream.

The stillness in Keith is indication enough he realizes something of significance has happened. For just a second, he’s guilty, he thinks about asking Sendak if he’s really sure this is right. But he follows Shiro’s command, steps up next to Sendak. He glances over one last time before he raises his hand press it to the field alongside Sendak’s. Once more, that flare comes from inside him, and he can’t bring himself to say anything that will lose him this chance, this thing that makes him feel like his life has a purpose again. “It’s me,” he whispers. “Keith. I am your paladin.”

Silence lingers a moment longer than anyone in the hold feels it really should, but then the Lion’s eyes light up, and a growl thrums through the cruiser, shaking the steel beneath their feet, ringing in their ears. The particle barrier diminishes from the top down like a blooming flower with a treasure at its center. The Red Lion lowers its head slowly towards Keith and Sendak, and the way its great nose bumps Sendak’s hand is affectionate before she opens her jaws to Keith.

Suddenly unsure, feeling like something is ending as quickly as this is beginning, Keith’s head whips around to seek out Shiro’s face over his shoulder.

Shiro smiles at him, but it hurts. “I’m a man of my word, buddy. Got you a space ship.” He nods toward the Red Lion. “Go on and show us what she can do. Prove what kind of pilot you are. Make me proud.”

Keith chokes. “You’re staying here.” It’s not a question.

“I’m a man of my word.” Shiro repeats gently, and moves forward toward Keith and Sendak. He turns Keith to face him, places his hands on his shoulders and leans in to touch their foreheads together the way he used to do to calm Keith down when they were back at the Garrison. Shiro can only hope it works as well now. “I promised I’d come back. I promised the princess that I’d help find the Lions.” His smile twists in bittersweet recall. “I promised you I’d come back, bring you some alien tech, maybe even bring you back a spaceship.” He’s trying so hard to make it look like he’s calmer than he actually is. “You’ve got a new duty to take care of, Keith. It’s not the one I’d wish for you, but it’s the one that’s calling to you now.” He nods towards the Red Lion. “So you need to go and do what you need to do, all right? As far as I’m concerned, the Lions are off-limits as long as this ship is off limits to the princess.”

“That is not a bargain you can make, Shiro,” Sendak growls. “You forget your place.”

Shiro growls back. “I have not forgotten my place, _Commander_.”

“I’ll talk to her, but…” Keith slides his gaze over to Sendak and back to Shiro. He knows he would give a lot not to lose Shiro’s reassuring hands on him. He’d just gotten that feeling back, and it’ll be gone just as quickly. “He’s right. You’re under the eyes of Zarkon, and once he realizes what we have, he’s going to want his forces targeting the castle. And you’re too good to not be on the best ship in his fleet.”

Shiro wants to lash out, to force them to agree he doesn’t have to fight against his friend, the cadets that look up to him. “My place is a favored champion-turned-lieutenant under the order of Emperor Zarkon’s favorite commander. But I will not fire on this Lion. I will not fire on any of them.” He forces himself to unclench his hands from Keith’s shoulders, rubbing them where he’s certain to have left bruises. “It will never be an order I can follow.” He stops just short of telling Sendak that he might as well send Shiro back to the Arena for good if he intends to ever force such an order in the first place.

Sendak’s fists clench and his teeth are still gritted when Haxus joins them, laying a hand on his mate’s arm.

“The emperor is already asking for us to target the castle on Arus,” he tells them. “There are other ships within hyperspace coordinates. We are not without backup should something in our systems...fail.”

“Take your Lion and go,” Sendak tells Keith. “We will avoid firing on the Lions as long as we possibly can. Once Voltron is formed, I can promise nothing.”

Keith nods, and it’s torture to pull out of Shiro’s grip, saluting him. “I’ll make you proud.” He turns and sprints into the Red Lion, her mouth closing and her head raising as he settles himself in her cockpit.

Sendak ushers Shiro and Haxus to the other side of the door, where it will be safe for them while the bay doors are open. He activates the control panel and remotely grants Red the freedom to launch. The cruiser rumbles with the mechamism, but it's the roar from Red that truly shakes them. She sprints towards the open sky like a newfound freedom and leaps into the black. When the doors close again and everything settles, Sendak looks over at Shiro.

“I spoke out of turn.”

Watching Keith leave in the Red Lion from the security screens leaves a lump in Shiro’s throat, but he can only shake his head at Sendak. “You weren’t the only one.” He refuses to apologise, but he moves closer and brushes Sendak’s wrist, fingers stroking the pulse point once, twice, before he turns his attention towards Haxus. “You’ll have to remotely activate the pod I took home. And I should send the Altean one back, as well.” His mind is already moving forward, seeking solace in plans when he feels so adrift.

“I will need to break my ship,” Haxus adds with a disdainful sniff. “I’ll summon the pod you took before our systems mysteriously shut down. We will attempt to look as natural in this mess as possible. I have a feeling, with your protege and the Altean princess, whatever forces they send in as emergency backup are about to disappear from the fleet roster.”

Shiro snorts. “I think you’re right.” He’s suddenly so _tired_. “Sorry I couldn’t bring you back the snacks I meant to. Things got a little crazy back there.” He rolls his shoulders and his neck, still stiff from his time unconscious in the Altean cell. “Let me know if you need help breaking anything. I’m sure it would be very therapeutic.”

/

It’s late and Shiro can’t sleep. They’re ostensibly repairing the ship, but he’s pretty sure both Haxus and Sendak are counting this as an unanticipated vacation planetside. Haxus actually cooking with fresh food for the first time in a while is honestly pretty nice. Grounded on Arus’s surface, the ship is cool and his skin breaks out into goosebumps as he frees himself from under Sendak’s arm.

The commander rumbles in his sleep, but it’s Haxus’s narrow golden eyes that open to watch Shiro get dressed.

“Just going for a walk.” It’s not the first time he’s been restless and he doubts it will be the last. Haxus closes his eyes again and Shiro makes his way out into the ship.

From there, it’s easy enough to make it outside via a maintenance area to perch on the edge of the cruiser and watch the stars. It’s nothing like the Garrison rooftop, he can’t name the constellations he sees, but the feeling is the same. That wonder he has for the sheer scale of the universe and the reminder that any one person is but the merest speck of dust in the cosmos. There’s something comforting in that.

Shiro heads back inside and checks the scanner by habit. It pings with a fast approaching contact and for a moment he’s in shock. He thinks it might be Keith or one of the other cadets. That’s the only explanation. Either way, he should wake up the commander and Haxus. A sentry would. And occasionally, Shiro enjoys reminding them that he’s very good at following rules of conduct when it suits him.

Shiro gives the bed a longing glance, finally tired again, but decides to report first. “Haxus.”

Once more, he has Haxus’s attention, sleepy but focused. “What is it, Shiro?”

“Sensors report an approaching contact,” Shiro smiles just a little. “I suspect it’s Keith, but figured you should know.”

“Your pupil must miss you already. Go to him, but you can signal into Sendak’s chambers if it is something more dire.” He stretches and Sendak’s arms tighten around him, pulling him back. Haxus hums, a small smile on his face. “Go on,” he encourages with a wave of his hand.

Shiro chuckles softly and brushes Haxus’s shoulder before he heads back outside to see if it is indeed his protege.

When he gets outside, however, his first thought is that he doesn’t remember Keith’s Lion — or any of them for that matter — being so big or dark. His second thought is that the metal beast looks expectant.

Very clearly, as if it’s being spoken right along Shiro’s spine, a voice that is somehow more speaks. He senses it just as much as he hears it. It’s ancient and heavy, definitely expectant, but not without fondness.

**_There you are._ **


End file.
